Don't You Forget About Me
by xgracexbenderx
Summary: Insults, Smoking, Dancing, Joking, Make-Up, Crying, Shouting, Kissing, Running, Laughing, Loving. All of this on that one fateful day where Allison Reynolds, John Bender, Brian Johnson, Claire Standish, and Andrew Clarke were forced to spend detention together. Will their promises hold strong or unravel? We see who they really on as they struggle not to forget about each other.
1. Chapter One

_As you walk on by_

_Will you call my name?_

"CLAIRE! SWEETS, YEAH OVER HERE!" rang throughout the hallway as everyone turned and saw the trench-coat clad burner shouting the name of the Prom Queen loud and clear down the halls of Shermer High School. Claire whirled around, eyes narrowed in an attempt to pin who'd been calling for her. She rested her eyes on John Bender, one gloved hand cupped around his mouth to amplify.

She exhaled firmly and quickly turned back to her group. "Well God Almighty Claire, how much did that Saturday detention change you? Are we now friends with the homeless?" Jenny breathed.

"No… 'course not" Claire muttered, avoiding numerous stares from the surrounding crowd of judgemental pricks. Her eyes hovered over to Cal Nicholas who had his arm slung around Lydia, and then she found the boy standing next to the awkward couple, Andy. Their eyes met and he gave her a look that seemed to simply convey shrugging with one's eyes.

"Look at his shirt" seethed Millicent. "He's coming straight from a homeless shelter if you ask me, and once the school blows that wide open they're gonna have no place for some fuck up lunatic, if you ask me."

"Did anybody?" Claire said before she could stop herself. Everyone turned to stare at her.

"Excuse me?" Millicent inquired.

"Did anybody ask you?" God she was dumb. Why did she even bother to open her goddamn mouth the second time if she was just going to end up saying something that would lose her friends in the blink of an eye. "I mean all I'm saying -" she added quickly, trying to make a fast cover up. "Is you can never truly know what's going on in someone's home life, like he could be beaten for all we know, that's all I'm saying." She saw Andy give her a wary look and she glared at him, more out of anger from letting what she had just said slip out.

"You're sleeping with him!" Jenny exclaimed.

"I am not!" Claire retorted indignantly. "Excuse me for believing we shouldn't be so quick to judge!"

"I've got to get to class" Millicent said, grabbing hold of Jenny's arm as she walked. You could just hear the faint, "You know she totally is!" Claire sighed and turned to where Andy, Cal, and Lydia.

"I'm not slee-"

"Sorry Claire, you're gonna have to let me know what stoner sex is like some other time, I'm late too." She pulled Cal along with her as she went, leaving Claire alone with Andy. He surveyed her and shook his head. "_What?!_" she hissed.

"You can't go blurting out stuff like that. God Claire, if people start figuring out you messed around with Bender, ya know how that looks for me? I was in detention too! They probably figure I hooked up with Brian, for God's sake I don't think anybody knew Allison was capable of moving so they wouldn't figure her."

"We didn't mess around!" Claire growled. "And would it really be so terrible if we stuck to what we said, the shit about sticking together?!"

"Bender had us high as a kite when we said that, do you even think anybody remembers?" Andy reasoned. Claire looked down angrily. "What's wrong?" Andy tried to comfort her.

"It's just shit that we can't be friends."

"Do you even want to?" Andy shrugged. "Would you really want to sacrifice a day at the mall with Millicent to go to the library with Brian? Or how about a therapy session with Allison? Goddammit, the only reason you kissed that burner was because he got in your head about being a virgin, made you cry, and then gave you drugs! No emotions there!"

"FUCK YOU!" Claire screeched.

"Hey, hey you two!" yelled a middle aged teacher down the hall. "Hey, get to class!" Claire shot one last look of disgust at Andy as he turned around, slinging his bag over his shoulder and jaunting down the hall.

She felt the gaze of all her friends as she slowly crept into Spanish 3. She sat down slowly next to Jenny and averted her eyes from everyone else. "Well you can sit there" Jenny began, hushing her voice so that Mr. Incra couldn't hear. "But only if you're back to being Claire Standish, not Claire B-"

"Claire Bender, haha, I get it" Claire sarcastically mumbled. "I don't like him, God. I don't know why he was calling to me, maybe he was talking to another Claire! It was one of the most common names when I was born, you know."

"So you did or did not talk to him this Saturday?"

"Oh God no… you know him, he just spit insults at Vernon and picked fights with Andy, nothing for us to talk about." Jenny narrowed her eyes and Claire quickly stumbled to cover it up. "Er - speaking of which, why'd you get off without detention, they caught you shopping with me."

"Well Vernon likes me" she admitted.

"Fucking disgusting… and you're yelling at me for John Bender supposedly knows who I am."

"You know his full fucking name?"

"Detention role call…." Claire quickly said and Jenny rolled her eyes.

"All I'm sayin, Princess, is if you wanna keep that nickname, your knight in shining armor shouldn't be a thug in shining trenchcoats." Claire smiled slightly.

"You're right."

Brian was jogging down the halls out of breath. He could see Andy just a few feet in front of him, walking with two other Varsity lettermen that Brian didn't know the identities of. "ANDY!" Brian called! "HEY ANDY!" Andy turned around, his friends both stopping with him. One of them smirked and muttered something.

"Hey Andy, this the kid who's ass you taped up?" the other one laughed. Brian looked Andy in the eyes and although he was smiling, he had the dead, cold look in his eyes of contempt, telling Brian a clear message: Go away. Brian opened his mouth slightly and clicked his pen nervously.

"What's your name kid?" Andy said awkwardly, a piece of the worst acting known to history, but there isn't much to be said for the dramatic standards of Varsity wrestlers.

"Andy I -" Brian began.

"This kid's crazy, let's get outta here" one of the other letterman motioned towards the other end of the hall, and Andy grudgingly turned away, looking like he had something he so desperately wanted to say, but couldn't. Brian stood there, struck with embarrassment as he watched the three jocks trump away. He could hear his own heart trying to escape his chest as he caught his breath from all the running.

It was probably dumb for him to want to cry, but he did it anyway. Contrary to the stereotype you have set in your mind, Brian wasn't that kid: the crier, the one who couldn't take a joke. But pouring out the most intimate details about your very essence to a stranger one day, well it's enough to expect a "Hi" back.

Brian quickly wiped his eyes and smiled so he could disguise the redness of his eyes. He looked around the hall for one of his friends, or at least someone to cheer him up, but it just seemed to be a blur of people that he'd never said a word to… except conveniently, maybe the word "Hi."

He saw John walking through the halls. His back was turned, but the greaser hair and general swagger that Bender possessed was enough to let you know. He caught up to the guy and said "He-hey Bender", heavy nerves after what had just happened.

"Looky here, it's Bri. Thought you were gonna blow me off like cherry bitch this morning."

"Na-na-no, I mean, I myself just got ignored by Andy but that's nothing -

"Man I saw this comin' from a mile 'way. You can't change that type of rich kid… it's somethin in their blood, but spoiled entitled brats will be spoiled entitled brats. I would bet you one millllllliiiioooonnnn dollars that if you said hi to Allison right about now, she'd respond. It's the privileged ones without any manners."

"Yeah I mean -"

"I gotta get to class genius, Jenkin's really been riding my ass this week and I've got my fair set of detentions." Bender turned and continued to walk down the hall, leaving Brian alone. Brian had friends, he had Larry (although he hadn't showed up for school since Thursday, he might have even dropped out… his mom didn't work so homeschooling had always been an option for him), Mikey, Cooper…. yet he just didn't feel connected to them anymore. It was something strange.

Allison Reynolds didn't come to school that Monday. She didn't want to explain herself. To anybody. If she wore makeup, if she dressed like the cutesy prep Claire had engineered to come and eat Allison's face off, so many questions would occur. "_Who was that?" "Is that Allison Reynolds?" "Did she finally get off that fuckin vodka tonic shit and get her act together?" _And then there was the questions Claire might ask if she didn't wear the pink clothing. "_Why aren't you wearing the stuff I gave you?" "Did you even listen to a word I said?" _That is, if Claire were even to acknowledge her. If anybody even acknowledged her.

She didn't know if she really liked Andy or not. She kissed him, but she had kissed lots of boys (a girl or two if she was being fair, but those were stupid middle school dares), and she was upset, he was high… their reasoning wasn't too stellar. He was into her on a deeper level and she could tell that the first time she ever spoke on that Saturday. That's what ate at her.

John Bender didn't like girls that fucked with his mind. It sounded cliche to say Claire was the first girl who had stood up the great handsome Johnny boy, and it really wasn't true. John hit on every girl who showed two visible lumps under her shirt, just to see the reaction and the contempt in their facial expression. That was the only reason he ever talked to Claire in the first place, and to give Sporto a twist in his jock strap.

When he called out for her in the hallway he really had expected her to respond. That fuckin earring was all it took to convince him of that. But he was wrong, ever so wrong, because the fucking bitch turned around, and didn't acknowledge him. After he wore her fuckin diamond stud in his ear, gallivanting around the hallways with the shit glinting off of every nerds' glasses.

Bender shook his head and headed off to class. Class was John's second favorite part of the day, believe it or not. There was nothing that he enjoyed more (after his daily smoking) then smarting off to some underpaid fag and embarrassing him in front of the class. Besides from that, what else did he have to look forward to? His parents when he got home? He smirked and sauntered into his Lit class.

"Mr. Bender, so nice of you to join us" seethed Mr. Something or Another.

"I do believe, sir, I was only forty five seconds late" Bender pouted. The teacher turned around and grumbled to himself. He was almost as unqualified to teach this class as Bender was. They legitimately paid him to fumble around with a piece of chalk and write some book titles on the board. He was an idiot.

John didn't know many people in this class. Millicent, a popular bitch who he had seen in the hallways hanging out with Claire was sitting in a corner. Some burnout guy Todd doodled a picture of some type of cityscape on his notebook, and to top off the list of names Bender knew here, Janna Biehl sat in the front. John liked Janna. She was fun to smoke with whenever out of his friends scooped her up and brought her out back to their spot by the dumpsters. Wasn't ugly either, if he was being honest. Brown ringlets that were messed up like a tornado hit, freckles, olive complexion: she was not too bad.

John balled up a piece of notebook paper and tossed at the back of Janna's head. She spazzed quickly and turned around, narrowing her brown eyes at him. He shot her a yellow-teethed grin and she smiled a little back. Picking the paper ball off the floor, she uncrumpled it, smoothed it out, and scribbled something on the front of it. Folding it back up, she aimed at Bender's face, at which time he extended a hand and caught it mid air.

Janna turned back around just in time for the teacher to face the class again, and John opened the note.

"_Busy tonight?" _was all it said. When the professor turned his back again, Janna turned around to see Bender's response. He grinned at her sheepishly and she bit her lip.

"CLARK!" was chorused as Andy stepped into the locker room and Leo jumped on him, ruffling up Andy's hair. "What's the deal bro, you suspended for the match or what?"

"No don't worry man, I'm all good, my dad talked to Principal Wiley and he said it's all a first offense so it's all good."

"First offense?" scoffed Michael. "Freshman year, after JV won that tournament and you climbed up the basketball hoop and started doing pull ups off the backboard -"

"Ha! Totally forgot about that one! Man that was great, and then the day after Coach Masterson asked me to be on Varsity." Ricky snapped me in the back with a towel.

"You shoulda seen the look on his face, though, when Couch approached him. Coulda swore he thought he was getting kicked of JV for the little stunt he pulled, he started shaking and everything. I'd never seen him that scared before!"

"Don't be a prick" Andy interrupted snidely. The locker room erupted in a chorus of laughter.

"Hey Andy, man why is that scrawny kid coming up to us saying hi to you?" asked Lucas.

"Scrawny?" snorted Ricky. "That guy was taller than you and me, Luke, you saw. He just looked like a dick, like he was gonna cry at any minute. You know him Andy? 'Cause he seemed to know you pretty well." Andy wrestled with how to respond for a minute.

"Never seen him before, probably on of Larry's friends coming to try and beat me up. Like he even could."

"Who's Larry?"

"He's that fag who got his ass cheeks taped up!" chimed Mark. Andy mustered up a half grin and then began to change his socks.


	2. Chapter Two

As Claire shoved through people in the crowded hallways to try and escape school right after the bell rang, she felt someone tap her shoulder, a more deliberate movement than any of the previous kids who had bumped into her. She turned around and saw Brian. "Oh thank God you turned around" he sighed. "I was thinking you wouldn't, I mean that's what Bender said, because Andy ignored me earlier and Bender said you wouldn't talk to him so I thought you wouldn't want to talk to me."

Claire groaned but then cleared her throat and straightened up. "Sorry Brian, it's just been hell of a day, I really can't do this right now. We can talk tomorrow, alright? I really need to get home!" Brian gripped some of the fabric in Claire's blouse loosely.

"But Claire" mumbled Brian. "I just wanna know, I mean, why didn't you talk to him? I thought you two were dating, I saw you two kissing."

"I don't know what you saw Brian but we certainly weren't kissing and we are certainly not dating." Claire's face began glowing red as she spit lies through her teeth. "Now Brian if you don't mind I really oughta get home, just -"

"Claire wait, one more thing! I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out later this week, if you aren't too busy. You know, just as friends."

"I'll check my calendar" Claire hurriedly spat and strided away. She wanted to get out of school as quickly as possible, to avoid seeing Andy or John or Allison. Originally she wanted to avoid seeing Brian too but that hadn't worked out too well. She pushed through the groups of students until she got to the curb where her dad was parked.

"God, there are too many people on this planet" Claire muttered as she got in. Her dad smiled and she glared at him. He was definitely one of the overflow people that she could do without. However, with her luck, if she disbanded her family and pushed her argumental mother and father out of her sights, they might just find a way to get along.

"Claire dear, what's wrong? Everything alright?" Her father tried to console her. She gave him the evil eye and retorted.

"No, everything's not alright, now just take me home." He lifted his hands off the steering wheel momentarily to symbolize surrender, and then started the car.

When John Bender's worn out, tired feet finally carried him to the porch of his house, he shoved his fists deeper into his trench coat pocket, and kicked the ground. After flinging open the screen door to announce his arrival, his mother called. "John?"

"Yeah Mom" John answered. His Dad was sprawled on the couch with a cigarette burning a hole in his shirt, fast asleep. Bender walked over, picked it up, and stomped it out. His father's eyes fluttered open briefly, noticed John standing there, muttered something incoherent, and fell back asleep.

"Mom?" John breathed. She looked up from her station in the kitchen cleaning a singed pot that was a lost cause. "Can I borrow the car tonight?"

"Ha!" she snorted. "If you can get that thing running, it's yours." Bender rolled his eyes. He wanted to roll up in Janna's driveway in a car, a running one, and piss off her parents, making them think he was a richie, and then take their daughter away. Janna lived in the same shit side of town Bender did, just a few streets down.

John's Dad began to stir, yawning and stretching. When he sat up and focused on John, he grunted. "You have any cigarettes left, John?" he slurred. John shrugged. They were his, he bought them, he wasn't just going to give them away. "Whatda I even fucking keep you around for?" his Dad muttered, standing up and walking into the kitchen.

"For my extensive IQ and ceramics skills!" Bender called.

"You watch your goddamn mouth!" said his mother, turning towards him, a spatula in hand. He put his hands up in mock surrender and was tempted to fold two fingers on each side over, but didn't. His mother wasn't terrible...at least she tried. That counted for something. His mouth twisted into a deformed expression.

"I'm going out" he declared. There was no response, so he grabbed his coat at the door, patted his pockets to feel his eighth, matches, and cigs, and walked out the door. The air was thin and biting, and he rustled around with his coat, trying to pull it up over his next. "Goddammit" he muttered. There were some dead leaves on the sidewalk and John kicked at them as he went.

Janna's house stood tall in front of his, with shingles falling off the roof and the door hinges crooked, Bender felt right at home. He knocked on the door and heard a shout of, "JANNA GET THE DOOR!" Shuffling footsteps, and then the creaking sound of the door swinging open.

"Hey Bender" she greeted him. "Wanna come in?" John shrugged and walked right in. He sat down on a sagging couch in a family room set off to the left and Janna followed, sitting in an armchair across from him. "You got smokes?" she asked.

"Nah" he lied, hoping to con some from her. "My dad hit me up when I got home."

"That's the shits" Janna said, handing a cigarette to Bender. He took his matches out, ignited a flame on his shoe, and lit his cigarette. "You always do that" Janna observed. "Never like a normal person."

"Normality is subjective" Bender shrugged. "You look at a shit house like this one, and to you and me, it's normal, but bring a richie in here and they might burst into flames." Janna shrugged and twirled her hand around in the smoke. She brushed a lock of her short black hair out of her eyes and as she did she reminded me of Allison.

"I just can't wait to get out of Shermer" Janna blurted out. "I'm moving to a big city where no one will know me."

"No one knows you here" John snorted. He was openly rude, and that's what turned girls away. He wasn't just the sarcastic, flirty, inappropriate bad boy that girls love. He was the sarcastic, flirty, inappropriate, manipulative, attention-seeking, rude, honest kid from the slums. And everyone he knew hated it. Give Janna three to four more weeks of knowing him, and she's gonna hate it too.

"Too many people know me for my liking" Janna reasoned. "I've got a little over a year left. My eighteenth birthday is in about seven months, so legally I'll be able to live on my own. I'll probably move out and then just finish out senior year."

"That's dumb. It's a waste, finish high school with your parents still paying for your shit."

"John, you don't live in my house." He crinkled his nose. He didn't like it when she called him John. It was unnatural. She was a smoking buddy. They called him Bender.

"Don't do that" he said. "Just, don't call me John, it feels forced." Janna turned away. He had probably embarrassed her.

"You wanna get out of here?" she suggested. "Go for a walk or something, I feel like my mom is breathing down my neck right now."

"Yeah sure." I stretched and got up off the couch, stopping out my cigarette into the carpet. Janna didn't say anything.

The outside air now felt more relaxing, after a tense exchange between the two of us. We walked down the sidewalk with the wind whipping around us. Any other guy would put his arm around her at this point, or at least hold her hand… but God that was dumb.

"How old are you?" Janna suddenly said. Bender raised his eyebrows quickly but then recovered, not used to being asked that question.

"I'll be nineteen in April" he said flatly.

"And you're a junior?"

"Is there a problem?" Bender retorted. "I'm not smart." Janna shrugged.

"I dunno. I was just wondering 'cause I'm only seventeen." It took a minute for Bender to register what she was saying.

"Oh God. Wow no, I'm not in the mood right now, but that's very flattering." Janna looked hurt and Bender was about to lose it. He couldn't understand how to work with people. It just didn't seem to register with him that if something will hurt someone, you probably shouldn't say it. "You know what, I'm gonna go. It was fun and all, and thanks for the stack. I'll see you around school." And with that, he slipped his hands into his pockets and began pacing away.

The next day at school Allison showed up with combed out hair, and a black tank top. Normal Allison… to some degree. At her locker she tried again to open the kid's next to hers. She had been watching him open his lock for a few weeks now, trying to figure out his combination. She doubted he had anything good inside, but it was almost like a challenge. The lock refused to open and she squealed.

She doubted Andy would say hi to her today. She was a practical person, and Andy was kind of an asshole when you stripped away everything else. His first instinct was to be an asshole, but if he considered his actions beforehand, he ended up being a pretty nice guy. If he found someone who could teach him how to think, he would be alright. However, Allison wasn't an expert in thinking.

There was a thud and a hand slammed against her locker. Without bothering to turn around, she bit it. "OH GOD!" wailed a voice behind her, and she spun on her heels. "Jesus Christ woman, you bite too" Bender exclaimed, shaking the pain out of his hand. Allison narrowed her eyes at him.

"What are you doing here _John?_" she asked.

"Hey, hey, let's watch it with the first names okay. My parents call me John, I don't need other people to catch on our it'll be no different than at home." Allison fluttered her black eyelashes and rubbed her eye, getting black stuff all over the palm of her hand.

"Why are you at my locker?" she hissed. He shrugged.

"Claire is a bitch. Andy seems to be a bigger one. Brian is no where to be found, and I'm trying to stay out of trouble until I serve my detention sentence, so that rules out my friends." Allison clicked her tongue.

"What makes you think I'm no trouble?" she seethed. Bender shrugged.

"Prove to me that you're not."

"Well unless you've got your heart set on going to first period, you wanna get out of here?" Bender shrugged again.

"If you've got smokes I'm in."

"Ha, what makes you think I have money for that shit?" Allison laughed.

"Wishful thinking, my dear" Bender answered. He put his arm around Allison's shoulders and they began to journey to the edge of school property. There was a little field of trees behind the football fields where the two of them settled down. "You know Cherry let me down yesterday" Bender said, taking a cig out of his pocket.

"Does that even surprise you?" Allison spit. "She's a prude." She tasted the last word on her tongue as she said it and Bender smirked.

"She kisses like one two" he added and Allison collapsed into the grass, her thick choppy hair sprawled out. "I'm serious, it was the kiss of the year if we were twelve."

"How old are you anyway?" Allison asked. Bender picked up a handful of grass and thrust it back down.

"God, you know, that's the second time I've been asked that in the past day. I'm a junior."

"No, but how old are you?" Allison emphasized. Bender glared at her.

"Nineteen in April."

"So you were left back?"

"Twice. You?"

"I'm a freshman… a genuine freshman. I turned fifteen in November."

"What about Cherry?"

"She's either a junior or a sophmore, I don't know."

"Well that's great, finish out strong together, eh? It all looks like I'm on track to graduate this year. I only failed first quarter Algebra." Bender picked another piece of grass and rubbed it between his fingers. "A lot of times you see those dumb kids who fail, but are actually fucking geniuses when they apply themselves, and all they needed to do is care and put forth effort. But I'm not one of them. I'm just genuinely dumb. Both my parents are, my old man's never had a job outside manual labor and bartending… maybe a few 7-11 gigs in high school. The only subject I'm good at is English. Not reading, but vocabulary in general. The smarter the sound, the more sarcastic."

"Well" Allison sneered. "What do you want to do then? With your life, I mean? If you're not smart."

"Who cares" Bender scoffed. "I don't even want to think of having to sustain myself."

"Andy!" Mark called out, with Leo and Ricky traipsing behind him. "We couldn't find you in the locker room after practice man, what the hell?"

"Dylan came and picked me up real early" Andy said. "I didn't feel like sticking around."

"You know we have a meet this Saturday, right? So you better start feeling like sticking around fast. You've been off game lately, Clarke. Lucas poned you last practice and he weighs like 80 pounds. Get set, Clarke."

"Hey, you're not my coach, man" Andy called as Mark turned away. Mark slowly turned around.

"I'm just saying what Masterson doesn't have the balls to say. Shape up or you might as well get out. You're a sophmore, do you know how many sixteen year olds would kill to be on the Varsity team? You're _replaceable, _Clarke, so get over yourself."

"I'm replaceable?" Andy sputtered. "You're the fucking replaceable one, I'll tell you something. You're on your way down to becoming first alternate if you don't learn how to get a pin and that ain't a lie!"

"You're a prick!" hissed Mark.

"So what if I am?!" Andy spit back. "You're an asshole so it seems fair!"

"You're gonna regret that, Clarke!" Mark yelled, taking up his letterman jacket and rolling up the sleeves. Before he could act, Andy caught him by the collar, and slugged him, making contact with the piece of skull protecting the side of his eye. A wave of electric shock went through Andy's fist but he still pulled back and struck Mark again.

"ANDREW CLARKE!" rang down the halls, in a stern, cold manner. "LET GO OF HIM!"

Andy dropped Mark to the ground, who quickly regained balance, and wiped a spatter of blood off of his cheek. Mr. Libhart stood there looking appalled, his arms crossed in disdain. "We'll be taking a trip to Mr. Vernon's office young man. Mark, off to class, or the office if you need an icepack." Mark grabbed Ricky and Leo and dragged them down the hallway with him.

Andy followed Mr. Libhart silently to the all too familiar office of Mr. Vernon, right across from the library. Mr. Libhart knocked on the door, and after being given the okay from Mr. Vernon, entered. "Mr. Clarke, well I tell you, I was not hoping I was going to see you again" Mr. Vernon said cooly.

"He was punching another student, right in the hallway" Mr. Libhart chimed in. "Mark Michaels. I'll let you take it from here." And with that, Mr. Libhart left the room. Mr. Vernon grimaced at Andy menacingly across the desk.

"Do you have a scholarship, Andrew?" Mr. Vernon began.

"Yes, sir."

"Full ride? Anything nice?" Andy bit his lip.

"Northwestern University, sir. Full ride."

Mr. Vernon raised his eyebrows. "Well that's very prestigious. That's a division one school if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes, sir."

"So why would a gifted, blessed, amazing athlete such as yourself want to jeopardize your hard earned scholarship with petty fighting." Andy felt the sarcasm in Mr. Vernon's tone and looked away.

"I don't know, sir."

"So I seem to recall you being in here last week Andrew. That is two infractions. I'm afraid that in addition to Saturday detention, you'll be suspended for two games."

"Meets, sir."

"What?"

"They're called meets, not games" Andy said shakily. "And I can't do that, it's almost the end of the year year, I need to compete, they're sending a scout to monitor me in a few weeks."

"Goodbye Andrew, be here 7AM Saturday."

Brian paced down the hall shakily. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to talk to someone, someone other than Keith or Greggie who were his only friends here now that Larry seemed to have dropped off the face of the Earth. He wanted to talk to Claire or Bender or Allison or Andy, but he had already completed seventy five percent of that equation, fifty percent of which went disastrously. Bender had been receptive and he assumed Allison would have been too if he had been able to find her.

He saw a glimmer and a familiar flash of a diamond. That meant it was either Claire or…

Bender stood in front of him, his diamond stud poking out from behind his mop of punk hair. "You look like hell" he commented.

"Oh, hi Bender."

"Hey Brian, listen, can you do me a favor?" Brian looked warily into Bender's small, deceitful eyes.

"It depends…"

"Next time you see Sporto around, tell him I wanna talk to him. I gotta ask him something."

"Um… Bender I don't think that's gonna work out to well, I told you yesterday, he um, he ignored me. And anyway, I heard that he got detention again this weekend from my friend Keith, so you'll see him then."

"For real? Ah well look, I found a reason to actually go. Thanks, nerd."


	3. Chapter Three

Bender arrived at Shermer High School at 6:58 AM. By seven o'clock, he was seated in the front row of the library, on the left side. He always sat on the left. He saw Andrew arrive and sit down in the back row, in the same seat Allison had sat in. He watched the door intensely waiting for the other detention students to roll in, but by seven o'five he and Andy were still the only two people there. That couldn't be right. Surely there had to be other students in the school who fucked up this week.

Vernon's shoes clicked against the floor as he walked. "Well, it looks as though the other three couldn't make it to the reunion" he said sarcastically, yet one couldn't say he sneered or smirked, because he remained full of contempt as he said this. "I assume you know the drill by now. You will sit here, silently, still, and awake. After your little essay stunt last week I'm not going to make you do any written work, but mark my words, if either of you steps one toe out of line, you're going to rain hurt down upon yourselves, you understand me."

"Yes ma'am" Bender muttered. Vernon caught his comment but let it roll away. He then proceeded to retreat back into his office. Maintenance had fixed the library door now so that it could hold open by itself, which would make his planned chat with Andrew harder. He whirled around and swaggered over to where he sat.

"Shitty turn out" he smiled. Andrew shrugged, sinking lower into his chair. "Oh c'mon Sporto, I'm only tryna make small talk, thought we were past the 'I hate you' spiel."

"You know Bender, it's actually not you that's my fucking problem but if you don't fuck off in five seconds it will be" Andy snapped.

"Enlighten me as to what is, then." Andy bit his lip and folded his arms. Breathing heavily, he unfolded them again and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"This! Detention, me not competing in the next two matches, me losing my ride if the scout doesn't track my progress!" Andy shouted.

"What happened to wanting your knee to give?! So you couldn't wrestle? You're becoming a machine just like your old man!"

"You don't even fucking know me! You don't know my dad! You may be able to play kissy face with Claire all day and have Brian do your goddamn homework but you might as well cut the act right now, Bender, because you and I are never going to be friends!"

"Well gee, boo-hoo because that's all I ever wanted, to be friends with the great renowned Andrew Clarke! Why, you can practically hear trumpets at the sound of that name!" Bender spit sarcastically. "You wanna know something, asshole? Every single fucking day I wake up, and I look in the mirror, and I wonder, what the hell am I gonna do with myself?! What am I supposed to do?! I ain't smart, God, no matter how hard I study, no matter how much I try, I ain't smart! I got no talents, I'm a piece of shit who can crack jokes and I don't need Vernon to tell me that to know it's true! I can't go to college, I'm gonna end up getting a job at a fucking gas station! So you quit your fucking whining and let it go because you just put your tights on and wrestle real good, and you've got your future spelled out!"

"You're a bastard!"

"Yeah? I'm glad you finally figured that out! Because no matter how close you get with me, no matter how good of friends we get to be, I'm always gonna be an asshole and you better get fucking used to it!"

"It doesn't even matter, we aren't friends!"

"You can say that again, Sporto, and we're never gonna be!" Andy turned away, chewing on his thumbnail nervously, and then turned back.

"Just fuck off and never speak to me again, now would ya?"

"Be my honor!" Bender announced. He turned around a chair in the front table and sat with his legs wrapping around the back. He crossed his arms over the top on the chair and huffed. Not even half an hour had gone by. He turned back to Andy. "You know I knew you were gonna be the one to fuck this up, Sporto. I just knew that the king of Shermer High wasn't gonna step down with the fucking untouchables for more than a few seconds when no one's looking."

"Claire's not an untouchable" Andy snorted.

"So you're not denying it for the rest of us. Me, Brian… ha-ho Allison. Man you were really getting at it with her the other day, you're saying she's just another peasant?"

"Shut up" Andy growled.

"No, I wanna hear you say it. I wanna hear you admit that you think we're all a piece of scum."

"I think you're a piece of fucking scum, that's what I think!"

"No, I want you to sit here and tell me that Brian, Allison, and I are just a bunch of sorry losers with our heads up your crowd's asses! Say it Andy!"

"You can't _make _me do anything!"

"Well if you don't think that then deny it!"

"Bender shut up, you're wasting air!" Andy shot, in an effort to avoid answering. He now understood the position Claire had been in last week.

"That's what I thought" Bender spit in disgust. "You think we all worship you. Do you know what me and my friends think of you? We think you're a self righteous piece of shit who's got one or two more years until everyone catches on to what a prick you are and never talks to you again. You and your whole group!"

"Well what do you think about Claire, huh?! Can't be any better! Tell us, what do you say to them about her when she ain't around!"

"Don't talk about her!"

"Why?! She doesn't like you anyway! I was there, she _ignored you!_ She ignored you in the hallways, she's ignored you this entire week! You're not dating and even if you were, a month from now you would just toss her aside like one of your stoner girlfriends!"

"That's not true" Bender said quietly, wringing his hands. "You don't know me. You think you know me, but you don't!"

"You said it yourself just a minute ago, you're an asshole!" Andy answered. Bender looked at the ground.

"Fine. I'm an asshole." Bender admitted. "But come to my house for one fucking day and you'll see why. The first thing my dad said to me when I got home yesterday was 'Do you got any cigarettes?' and when I said no, he asked why I'm even around and stumbled off! So yeah, come over! I'm sure you'll love it."

"I think I'll pass" Andy grumbled.

The doorbell rang at the Standish residence. "I've got it!" Claire's father announced, dropping the papers he had been shuffling back onto the kitchen counter and striding to the front door. When he unlocked it and pulled it open, his eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Um...honey?" he called warily. Mrs. Standish came bustling out of a side room and she too looked shocked at the identity of the guest.

"Can we help you?" she chided, condescendingly. "Are you lost?"

"Uh, no ma'am" John Bender replied. "I'm here to see your daughter."

"Claire isn't home, I'm afraid" Mrs. Standish said slowly.

"Mom? Who's at the door?" a voice called from an upper level of the house and soon Claire began to descend the staircase. When she saw Bender standing there, leaning up against the door post, her face flushed. "Uh, Mom...can I just talk to him for one tiny second?" Her parents walked away slowly, glancing over their shoulders every few seconds to make sure the homeless-looking boy at the door didn't have his hand down their pristine daughter's shirt.

"You had no right!" Claire insisted.

"No right to what?!" Bender retorted indignantly.

"To come to my house! To speak to my parents! I think I made it very clear what place you have in my life: there is none. Just go away!"

"Why?! Why are you such a _bitch?_ I thought you had changed! I thought we all had changed! But no Andy practically tried to shoot me with words today in detention, and you're being a snob just like him!"

"Andy was in detention?" Claire paused.

"God, yeah, I thought you knew, he just couldn't stay away from me."

"You know what Bender, you haven't changed either! Look me in the eyes and tell me you love me, and if you can do it then I will literally walk into school on Monday with your hand in mine and make out with you in the middle of the fucking hall!" she screeched. Bender stared at her blankly for a minute. Finally, he turned around, and began to walk back in the direction of his neighborhood. Claire blinked tears out of her eyes and slammed the door, sliding down the back of it.

Brian strode down the sidewalk of the Chicago streets flanked by Mikey Woodrow and Cooper Weathers. It was almost like a tradition that the three of them would see some sort of movie on a Friday or Saturday night. Occasionally, they would invite Larry to come with them, or Rob, but they weren't very good friends with either of them. Larry wasn't as smart as Brian, Mikey, and Cooper were. Larry, contrary to the stereotype people saw him as, was a C student. He ran track freshman and sophomore year, but stopped after that because he wanted to focus on pulling his grades up. However, the running had a permanent effect on his metabolism and the poor guy ended up being scrawnier than a twig.

"Bri, we hardly saw you this week" complained Cooper. "You didn't even sit by Mikey in Latin, I mean come on man!" He swept his bangs out of his eyes. "We heard a rumor that -" Cooper caught the look in Mikey's eyes and slowly closed his mouth, but Brian already knew what they were going to say. He looked down.

"So have you gotten any letters?" asked Mikey. Brian shrugged.

"Illinois State. That's it." Brian looked down at his feet and began silently counting. It was a technique his mom had taught him.

"That's it?!" demanded Cooper. "Brian, April is like the college cut off. They never mail letters in April. Maybe early April, but Brian this is bad!"

"Yeah well thanks Cooper, I've got Illinois don't I? It's not even April yet, there's still two more weeks until they stop sending letters!"

"Brian… it's April first." Brian felt like he was about to scream. If he didn't get his letters early, that means he wasn't a top choice. That probably means he didn't even get in anywhere at all. Kiss Ivy League and Columbia University goodbye, he would be taking mediocre classes at Illinois State, an hour away from his family. What an escape.

"You know, I don't feel like going out tonight after all. I never really wanted to see Police Academy anyway, I'll catch you tomorrow, or at school."

"Hey Brian, you know we were just kidding! You're smarter than the two of us combined!" yelled Cooper as Brian tore down the sidewalk. He felt like he was going to be sick. He heard Mikey distantly say to Cooper, "What has been up with that kid lately?"

He was going to have to walk home, since Mikey had driven them. It was freezing out, and he wrapped his scarf around his neck. He wished that things had turned out the way they were supposed to on Monday, and that he could have a grade free conversation with non-academically focused people like John or Andy, or Claire or Allison. It was alleviating to not have to spend hours upon hours discussing grades, and that's all Mikey and Cooper seemed to want to talk about. He missed Larry. He could talk about girls and sports and comic books with Larry. Larry was so down to earth that his feet practically sunk into the ground.

He considered calling Andy, but fear of rejection took him over. Claire would probably reject him in the same manner. John and Allison, however, would probably be perfectly friendly. Friendly? No. Neither of them were friendly. They were intimidating and sarcastic, but they were civil, and they would treat Brian as an equal.

But was he really up for that? If Bender's house was as bad as he had portrayed, could Brian step one foot in there without pissing himself? And if he was alone with Allison, who knows what would happen. The girl had serious psychiatric problems, and there was no way to romanticize it to make it seem cute. It was the insanity corruption of a teenager girl.

No, he decided. He wouldn't subject himself to that torment. Not tonight, at least. He would go home, he would study like a broken record, and end up passing out at his desk with the lamp shining in his face.

Allison collapsed on her bed. She was bored. As always, she was bored. Most friendless teenagers seek refuge in the arms of their parents, replacing normal peer interaction with an unhealthy relationship between them and their mom and dad. But Allison had no friends, and sorry excuses for parents. She was at a loss.

It occurred to her to call Andy. She was curious to see how he would react. She hadn't tried to speak with him at all during the past week. She knew exactly what would happen. Claire had shot down John. He would shoot down her. It was how things worked and it was unavoidable. Still, she extended her left hand and picked up the phone. She didn't know his number.

She didn't know his goddamn number and she had no way of getting it. There had to be some sort of white pages around her house somewhere. She made her way to her father's study and searched through the book shelf. Once she located the heavy bound book, she turned to the C index and searched for Clarke. Lisa Clarke. Susan and Anthony Clarke. Robin Clarke. Michael Clarke.

Michael Clarke looked promising. Andy had made it sound like his father was his sole caregiver, and Michael Clarke was the only single male listed. There was a fair amount of 'Clark's, but Allison remembered an article in the school news about a wrestler with the last name Clarke, not Clark. She dialed Michael Clarke.

"Hello?" answered a gruff voice. Allison squeaked and bit her nail.

"Do you have a son named Andrew Clarke?" There was no answer, but a fair amount of shuffling, and finally a call of "Andrew, there's a girl on the phone for you!" Footsteps, a door creaking, more footsteps, unintelligible murmuring, and finally "Hi, who is this?"

"Hi, Andy" Allison whispered. She heard heavy breathing on the other end.

"Oh, God. Hey, Allison."

"So I was wondering, what is this?"

"What is what?"

"Don't 'what is what' me, Andrew. You know what are mean."

"You mean to say, what are we?"

"Yes." There was a pause on the other end and Andy took a deep breath. She waited in anticipation. The moment of truth.

"We're not… I mean…"

"I thought as much" Allison hissed. "You don't have any balls, Andrew Clarke. You're not even doing this for appearance's sake, you're doing this because you can't stand up to yourself!" Her mascara was running, fantastic.

"That's not it! It's not appearance's, I can't explain it! I have a lot of pressure on me right now okay? The guys on the team -"

"Would never accept you if you dated a basketcase. Got it."

"You're not a basketcase. You've got some issues, but we all do."

"Yeah you said that in detention. But I don't believe you, you're a liar!"

"I'm a liar?!" Andy sputtered incredulously. "You're sick if you're going to tell me that I'm the liar!" Allison hung up.

Andrew Clarke arrived at the Bender household at precisely 10:26 PM that evening, sporting his varsity jacket, white undershirt, and high rise faded blue jeans. A tall woman with big hair and a cigarette in her mouth opened the door. She removed it and hollered, "John, some kid's here!" Then she let the door shut.

A minute later it reopened, and Bender stood there, his hair combed back and gelled. It was slick and shiny. He too had a cigarette in his mouth. "Well hey Sporto. Guess you came to beat me up."

"No" Andy said sharply. "Can I come in?"


	4. Chapter Four

As soon as Andy stepped foot in John's house, his facial expression contorted so that he looked as though he had just smelled something foul. He quickly tried to sheepishly grin to play it off, but John had caught it. He didn't care either way, it didn't matter where you came from to know that John's house smelled like cigarette smoke and looked like hell.

"I gotta be honest with you, Sporto" Bender began. "Usually after a shouting match like that one, my adversary doesn't show up on my doorstep. Oh, and wearing those _ridiculous nikes!_ Come on man, you gotta take those off. Primarily because they make you look like a fag, but also because I have a reputation to withhold as well, and those 150 wonders right there ain't cuttin it." Andy gestured sarcastically to Bender's ear, where Claire's diamond earring was pinned in.

"Point taken" John smirked. "Come on, this is my room." He lead Andy down to a side door across from the kitchen. It wasn't a small room, not like one would expect. It was probably the same size as Andy's, and to his surprise, the walls were actually painted blue, not grey or black like you might suspect. Posters for obscure metals bands hung around the walls, and then…

"Madonna?!" Andy snorted incredulously. John shrugged.

"Have you seen the girl? She's like a goddess. And the music ain't bad either, plus it annoys the fuck outta my dad when I play it."

"Well pardon me, it just doesn't really fit your image, is all."

"It ain't really an image when it's the truth" Bender pointed out. "So why'd you come here anyway? It was rhetorical when I invited you over last Saturday, you do know that right? God, you athletes got mush for brains, I swear."

"Yeah, and we all love it when you swear, Bender. The point is, I'm here because I wanna talk to you…"

"About…?" John coaxed. Andy sighed.

"You're gonna laugh."

"No, no, scouts honor, just tell me."

"You weren't even a fucking boy scout."

"Just tell me Clarke!"

"God, fine, I need some advice on how not to be such an asshole." Bender leaned back.

"Okay, great that you're pursuing that, Sporto, but I don't think I'm the best person to be asking about that. You have met me right?" Andy laughed.

"I mean with all this social standards shit. I mean look, I owe an explanation to you man, but I said a lot of stupid things to Claire after you said hi to her in the hallway. And I just don't wanna be this robot anymore. I want to take Allison out, but I don't want to be seen with her, but at the same time, I don't want to not want to be seen with her, but I also want to not want to be seen with me… and you have no idea how frustrating that is."

"Mmm.. yeah I get the picture there. So you really do like Allison, huh?"

"I don't know. I can't see why I would like her. All she did was lie to us, depress us, and steal things. She's crazy and I was high when I kissed her. So who even knows."

"You know, you're making this hard on me here, Sport. I can't solve your problem if you have about 13 million problems within it. Alright, so wait… how old are you?"

"I'm a sophmore."

"You ever failed?"

"No. I turned 16 in October."

"Jesus man, you're young enough to be my son!"

"Well what are you, 26?!"

"27, but let's keep that on the down-low. I'm 19, jock strap!" Not yet technically, but only one more week.

"Whatever, why does it even matter how old I am in the first place?!"

"It matters because…" John drew out. "Sweet old Ally is just a freshman, and I love that freak loser like a sister. If you were a nineteen year old senior I wouldn't want you feeling her up!"

"You know, some relationships aren't all about sex, Bender."

"Look who's talking, you didn't seem to be owning up to any virginhood last Saturday!"

"Neither did you!"

"Just because I didn't say it doesn't mean I'm not one" winked Bender. This caught Andy off guard.

"Are you?" he asked, curiously. Bender smirked.

"Well I don't really see fit to answer that question, because that is my own knowledge and I would like to keep it that way." Andy shrugged. "And if we're bringing things back around to the whole Allison thing, I don't know what to tell you. Have you talked to her since detention?"

"Yeah, once, I told her we weren't dating and to leave me alone."

"Smooth! Classy! Real charmer over here!"

"Hey you're one to talk, Bender. 'You are a bitch!' 'You ever been felt up?' 'I'm just gonna start pissing in the middle of the school library!' Real charming things to say to your lady!"

"A, She was being a bitch. B, I was curious. And C, well I couldn't very well go to the bathroom now could I?"

After Claire's run in with John, she couldn't get her mind off what he had said...well, more what he hadn't said. Her mind kept replaying the scene over and over again, when she zoned out in class, when she closed her eyes, when she was out with friends. He couldn't say three simple words. She had asked him the question because she was almost sure he would say it, and everything would be copasetic. If he loved her, then she could mold the relationship to work, hide it from her friends, flaunt him to her parents. He would be willing to do that if he loved her, wouldn't he? But he didn't. Did he even like her?

She picked up her phone. It was scratched and dented from how many times she had thrown it across the room after a heart-wrenching conversation with a boy or inconsiderate friends. She dialed the area code and then paused, deciding whether she should call Millicent or Jenny. Both were self-centered, unsupportive bitches. Of course, she wouldn't mention his name, but would that even help?

She finally dialed Millicent, figuring that her bitchiness would translate into brutal honesty. "Hello?" Millicent said muffledly. There was fidgeting on the other end and Claire assumed she was taking off her head gear. Claire had never told anyone that Millicent wore head gear, even though she never understood why it was such a big deal. Teeth issues are genetics, it really has nothing to do with social status.

"Hey, it's Claire."

"Oh Claire, hey, God, I was about to go to sleep you know."

"Millicent, everything is so shitty right now!"

"That's high school, Claire."

"No, I'm being serious. Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah."

"What do you do when a boy doesn't like you?"

"You're going to have to elaborate a little more on that one."

"Alright, but I'm not going into a lot of detail, you're going to laugh at me!" Claire giggled. This is why it was so hard for her to stand up to her friends. They weren't always bitchy rumor-spreading immature assholes, they were fun to be with and could be supportive if the right variables align, so that's how Claire learned to be vague.

"I will not!"

"Oh come on yes you will! And you're such a gossip Millicent and we all know it, that's why Jenny and I never tell you anything! But here's what happened. This guy… we'll call him Rob, was being a total crude _asshole _to me for hours, but in a flirtatious way, ya know? Well finally I made the first move and kissed him, and then we kissed again and I gave him one of my earrings -"

"Your diamond earrings?!" Millicent demanded. "Oh God Claire, you really like this boy. Does he have a car?" Claire pictured John's jet black leather boots.

"It's black and shiny, and really fast" she smiled.

"Wow!" breathed Millicent.

"Alright, yeah, well anyway, so _Rob_ and I ran into each other a few days later, and I blew him off, so he was upset and came to my house. Then we got in this awful fight, and he said he didn't love me and ran away."

"He said that?" Millicent demanded.

"Well, no, but I asked him, and he wouldn't say he did." Millicent sighed on the other end.

"Claire honey, he sounds like an asshole. I mean, what do you even see in him. Is he attractive?"

"Kind of, I mean, it depends on tastes. But he's funny and he knows all the right things to say."

"But he treated you like shit!" Millicent argued.

"I know, but he was just trying to get a rise out of me. I was rude too!"

"Claire, that doesn't make it all okay." Claire exhaled sharply and for a while neither of them said anything.

"I guess I'm just not right anymore."

"Claire, look at Lydia and Cal. They're crazy about each other. They only met a year or two ago, but they're madly in love. That is true love. But they didn't have all these little moments of 'do I like him?' and 'is he really an asshole because he acts like it?' If you have to think about these things, it's not love."

"Thanks Millicent. I gotta go to bed now. Goodnight." Claire hurriedly hung up the phone and flopped down on her bed.

Unfortunately, Claire was awoken later that night by the sound of shattering glass, and a loud hiss of the word "Fuck!" She rubbed her eyes and rolled sleepily out of bed. When she stumbled over to the window, cutting her toe open as she did and cussing loudly, she saw a blurry image of what she perceived to be John Bender standing there with his arms crossed. "You know, that never happens in movies!" he yell-whispered to her. She rolled her eyes and he began to scale the house until he made it to her bedroom.

"Aw, fucking dammit, ow...you really should clean this up" John noted. She glared at him. "What?!" he demanded. "Oh, no no no, this is not my fault, I was trying to be romantic, this is my grand scheme for apologizing in case you didn't figure that out… man, something alway gets broken."

"John, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm apologizing!"

"No, out! You cannot be here, it is 2:30 AM, I was asleep, I have church in the morning! And God, you broke my window! My parents are going to flip when they see this!"

"Oh no!" John gasped sarcastically. "Wherever will they find the money to pay for this?"

"Shut up!" she sighed. "I'm dead."

"I don't know what to tell you honey, it's not like I can fix it."

"Don't 'honey' me."

"Don't take it so seriously" John said halfheartedly. "Honey, sweets, sugar, babe...whatever, I toss them around, it's what I call every girl, get over yourself, princess."

"You know," Claire began. "If you just came to be an asshole, then why don't you just leave!"

"Hey, Cherry, I just wanna talk okay, you seemed really pissed off earlier!"

"God, John, we're not dating, we're not even friends! Go fuck one of your wallet girls!" John rolled his eyes.

"Alright, are you seriously so upset about that? Five or six of those girls were porn stars, a few were yearbook clippings of dreamgirls, and yes, most of them are girls I've laid. Sue me, it's what guys do. I don't have any diseases, I think, so I really don't see the problem."

"I don't want to end up another wallet broad!" Claire finally shrieked softly. John put his hands up in mock surrender, and slowly grabbed the wallet out of his back pocket. He took out each picture individually, and laid them on Claire's bed, except for two or three of the porn star ones who he left in their dividers. They were only fantasies. He then proceeded to light a match and lit the pictures on fire.

"John!" Claire screamed. "Are you crazy?! Oh my god!" She grabbed a pillow and tried to stomp the fire out. Bender laughed.

"Relax!" He cupped one gloved hand and patted the fire out. There was a small circular hole in Claire's blanket and the pictures were now ashes. "No more pictures, no more wallet." Claire shook her head, and she looked like she was about to cry.

"Just get out!" she muttered.

"I'm literally not leaving" John said snidely. "You can call the cops on me and I can get arrested, but I doubt you will. You can call your parents, scream rape or something, and have them running in to see their daughter lying in bed with a scraggly street kid, but remember Claire, I'm a talented liar, and I could spin that on you. You could try and force me out, but you're… 5"6, 5"7? Probably about 115 pounds… maybe 120. I'm about 5'10 and a half, so you've almost got me on the height, but sweets you're rich. You don't have all that muscle normal people have. You never have had to carry a heavy trashbag up the street or lift boxes in the basement, so I've got you beat there. After that, you can see that there is really no way to get me to leave."

"You're a shit!" But Claire could see that he had her beat, and that there was no way she could get him to leave. She wondered what would happen if she called the cops. He would get arrested, and out of sympathy she would probably end up posting his bail. But if she didn't, he would end up in jail with a criminal record. Those guys would beat the shit out of him.

Bender began to tug off his shirt. "What the hell?! What are you doing?" Claire crinkled her nose. He was scrawny, abnormally scrawny. You could almost see the bones in his stomach, along with a variety of cuts and bruises, and up near his armpit, another cigar burn.

"Oh relax, Queenie, as if I'm in the mood. Your room," he reasoned, "is incredibly hot. At my house, we don't have the privilege of a running heating system, so I'm not used to this." Claire studied him.

"What happened there?" she asked, pointing to a scar about the length of her forearm running down his left ribs. He shrugged.

"I fell."

"You did not."

"I. Fell." He said more sternly this time and she got the cue to drop it. He then lifted up the blanket of her bed and wormed his way under the covers.

"Uh uh, get out!" Claire hissed. John bit his lip and smirked, he was aggravating her. With a lot of girls, if one climbed into their bed shirtless in the middle of the night, no matter how annoyed they pretended to be, they would normally like it. However, he could see how upset Claire was and how much she really, really did not want him here. It was amusing.

"Sue me" Bender laughed, burrowing his head into her chest.

"John...get...out...of...my...bed!" she screeched, yanking the blanket off of him, and slapping him hard on his bare back, then again on the reminiscence of an old burn (unintentionally).

"Holy mother of…!" he yelled as he got out and straightened up. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"I will not talk about this any longer, John, get out of my bed, get out of my room, and get out of my house!" Bender felt the urge to make an inappropriate joke but exercised immense self control and did not.

"I don't think I'm in your bed, I would like to point out. And I can't go home right now, do you know what my old man would fucking do if I came home this late with your lipstick on my -"

"I don't even want to hear what you were going to finish that sentence with, just get out."

"Mouth, Claire, mouth, you've gone to the gutter I see. And seriously, he would kill me."

"Great story, sleep in a bathroom somewhere!" Claire turned over and covered her face with a pillow. John crawled back onto the bed and sat upright on his knees. He nudged her and heard a muffled huff. He nudged her again and she sat upright hastily.

"Bender, I swear, if you don't climb out my fucking broken window…." she said as she grabbed a fistful of his shirt. "...run as fast as your ass can carry you, and never look back, I will literally kill you." He smirked.

"Are you trying to turn me on, princess, because I'm experienced, you've got to do better than that!" She simulating gagging and kicked him lightly in the back of his thigh. Memories were swarming, and it was like detention, and she was getting so lost in the moment. She hesitated. God she didn't want to do this. She wanted to go back to sleep.

"I love you!" she blurted out. The color from his face drained and she fell back on the bed giggling. "I love you! I just really really love you!"

"Claire, slow down… you don't know what you're saying." He proceeded cautiously. He picked up his shirt that was lying on the ground and pulled it over his head, and then back on to his figure. She sat back up feeling like an idiot. What did she just do?

"You're not leaving are you?" she asked.

"Oh now she doesn't want me to leave" John said, wryly. "Claire, I really think it's cool that you feel that way, but you don't. You're a little girl."

"I am not!" Claire protested, standing up, and at that moment she really felt small. He had a good four inches on her. They were standing so close, and she was looking up into his eyes, and he was going to kiss her, and it was going to be a movie.

And he stepped back. "Claire, honey...do you know how old I am?" he asked. She shrugged.

"Seventeen, eighteen, I dunno."

"How old are you?"

"I'm almost seventeen! I'll be seventeen in July" she defended. He rolled his eyes and smirked.

"Well, I'll be nineteen next week. Claire, I'm two and a half years older than you! God, and you think you're in love with me?! You're too young to know what love is." She sat back down on the bed.

"Are you really gonna go?" She sounded like a little kid, which just furthered his point.

He paused, and looked at her. "Claire I gotta-"

And then she was singing. And he was looking at her like she had three heads. She was purposely singing off key so she wouldn't be embarrassed if she sounded awful, but she was singing none the less. It was barely singing, more rhythmic talking.

"Ch-ch-changes" she said, grooving her shoulders and grinning. He started laughing at her, but in an endearing way. "Turn and face the stranger...ch-changes.. I don't wanna be a richer man." She played with the buttons of his tattered shirt. "Ch-changes, just gonna have to be a different man."

"TIme may change me, but I can't trace time" he said - not sang - shakily. He sang every few words and then dropped off. He was an awful singer, God help him. Claire joined him to sing, "I watch the ripples change their size...But never leave the stream of warm impermanence and so the days float through my eyes… but still the days seem the same."

She got louder. "And these children that you spit on, as they try to change their worlds...are immune to your consultations. They're quite aware of what they're going through…" He glared at her snarkily.

"Yeah, I get it" he said. She smiled broadly and he did too.

"Clarke, get your head in the game!" the wrestling coach belched. Allison hid in the bleachers, watching Andy like a cat. She squeezed her bag and breathed heavily.

"Hey!" called one of Andy's teammates. "Hey! Look over there!" Oh fuck no. And they were all staring at her now. She made a noise in the back of her throat and waited for Andy to turn around. "Andy, there's someone in the bleachers man… she looks totally satanic, dude!" Allison shrugged, grinning a little.

Andrew Clarke turned around. She met his eyes and he sighed. He looked upset, and thrilled at the same time. He walked over slowly.

"Boys, get over here or you're running!" hollered the coach. Slowly, everyone turned and walked back over to the mat. And then Mr. Big Shot Wrestling coach began to make his way over to Allison. "Missy, this is a closed practice. I suggest you high-tail it over back to fifth period." Allison hissed at him, and climbed out of the bleachers.

She waited outside the gym until practice was let out. When he came bounding out, sweat dripping from his brow, laughing with one of his wrestling buddies, he noticed her. "Allison, hey" he said, wiping his forehead. Her eyes about popped out of her head.

He hadn't said, "Allison...hey" slowly and cautiously. He addressed her how he would address any popular, pretty, normal girl. She grinned sheepishly.

"Kiss me" she demanded.

"Okay" he shrugged, still out of breath from practice. And with his entire team, he pushed her up against the wall and kissed her.


	5. Chapter Five

John swung the screen door open and coughed a little bit. Even he had never quite gotten used to all the smoke in his house. He saw his dad sitting watching a college basketball game and slowly crept behind the sofa hoping he wouldn't be noticed. Unfortunately, "John? That you?" his dad said slowly. Had he been drinking? John couldn't tell if it was a retardation or drunkenness anymore. He seriously had suspected that his father had a learning deficit for some time now that had been passed down to John.

"Yeah" he sighed heavily.

"Your mom left" his father said gruffly. John shrugged and sat down on the couch next to his dad. His mother left once a month, to clear her head as she said. No one knew where she went. Cheating, probably, and who could blame her?

"She'll be back" John reassured his dad who looked like he couldn't care less. Sometimes when John was bored, he would try and picture his dad being happy enough to actually get down on a knee and ask his mother to marry him. He'd never seen a wedding photo. Had they even had a wedding? He often suspected their marriage was for tax-break purposes only.

What had happened to his dad, John would wonder. He couldn't have been like this as a kid, something must have happened. He didn't really care if something terrible had happened to his dad, but what he did care about is if it hadn't, and that he just morphed into a monster. If it was that easy, it would happen to him.

"You think I don't know that?" sighed Bender's father. "Why does she always leave?" Bender shrugged, but in his mind was naming reasons. It would feel so good to say him, to cut his dad down like he cut down everyone else.

"Because you're…" John began and then immediately regretted it. He felt no satisfaction now, he felt utter terror. His father looked at him with dead hazel eyes. It was like he was begging John to finish, just to have an excuse to go off. He didn't ask "Because I'm what?", he just stared. _Say it. Tell me what I am. _John glared right back at him.

"Because you're an abusive _asshole_" he said shakily, but hitting firm on the word 'asshole.' His father grabbed him by his shirt collar. He stood up, yanking John up with him, and shoved him back into one of the beige walls. Disoriented, John shook it off and flipped his hair back. His dad was now advancing towards him again, and fumbling with something in his pocket. John slowly backed up until he hit the wall again and had nowhere to go.

"God, you're pathetic, John" his dad growled. "Stupid and worthless, I want you out of my house, I want you gone, you hear me!" He was shouting now. He was losing it. He grabbed John's arm and John tried to pull away, but his dad had him. He emerged from his pocket with a lighter and every hair on John's body stood on end.

"Holy mother of fuck dad you can't -" He slid down the wall as much as he could but he was pretty stuck. His dad's grip was driven by years of bitterness, insanity, and fury, and John's desperation wouldn't break free of that. He wasn't really going to...that was crazy. That went way beyond normal abuse. Cigar burns, that was normal...this was just crazy. John bit his gums and trembled. This is what his father did. He made John feel worthless and helpless.

His dad shoved up the sleeve of his grey undershirt and as John kicked and clawed and screamed, he lit a flame on his son's arm.

"Aghhhh!" he screamed, bursting into tears, and trying to pat it out, but it spread up his forearm and was about to catch his shirt. He was sobbing now and he felt like such a loser every time he screamed. He got most of the flame out as he ran to the kitchen sink. The cold water felt so much worse. His dad was slowly pacing over to where John stood. It had to be a mental condition, no sane father would do that to his son.

He hit John. Slapped him. Backhand. Like a peasant. That was it, John was boiling. He never hit him backhand… that son of a bitch. John tried to raise his arm but it felt like a million daggers. Why couldn't it have been his left arm?

"I hate you!" Bender cried. The pain was overwhelming, and talking made him want to pass out. He squeezed his eyes shut. "God, I hate you, I've always hated you! What is wrong with you? "

"Get the fuck out of my house!" hollered his father, and John paced into his room. Locking the door so he father couldn't come in, he pulled down a cardboard box he had been previously using to store his adult film collection, and tossed them under his bed. He shoved a few shirts, a jacket or two, three pairs of pants, a bag of doobage from under his bed, a pack of cigarettes, and a pack of gum in the box. He stared at his records. His dad would destroy them, no doubt. He grabbed a Van Halen, a Springsteen, a Zepplin and two or three others. He then prayed a silent prayer that wherever he went would have a turn table.

He didn't want to go back through the living room, so he climbed out his open window. He looked down at his arm. It was blackened and peeling, and there was lots of blood, and yellow clots. He touched it and immediately wished he hadn't. The skin was boiling almost, and there was steam coming off of it. He screamed in pain and a mixture of bile and vomit dribbled out of his mouth as he hunched over.

He was getting dizzy and was going to pass out if he didn't lie down soon. There was a phone booth just a few yards up the sidewalk and John dialed Billy's house. "Hello?" answered a shrill woman's voice.

"Uh hi Mrs. -" he paused as a shockwave of pain rippled through his body, grunted and held back that large lump in his throat. "Sorry, uh, hi Mrs. Reinhart, it's John, is Billy there?" He heard her call her soon and after a minute or so Billy answered, "John, what's up?"

"Billy, I'm gonna need you to come pick me up, now. I'm at the phone booth outside my house. This is serious man, don't ask questions, this is life of death shit...oh god ow… just get me now. If you're not here in five minutes I'm beating your ass!"

"Alright, alright, I'm on my way" and before Billy hang up, John heard a muffled, "God, what an asshole." Billy lived about five or so minutes away by car, and even that sounded too long. His arm was blistering and turning white. It had spread to a recently-formed scar which was now turning purple. John sat on some random neighbor's grass and tilted his head back in agony. Where was Billy, it had been almost a minute now.

He blanked.

"Man, c'mon don't be fucking dead John, I swear to God, Bender" were the first word's John heard when his eyes fluttered open in the back of Billy's car. He was lying horizontally with all three of the seat belts fastened around him.

"Man, get these things the fuck off me" he breathed groggily. "Where are we going?"

"Oh my God, thank God! We're going to the hospital you dick."

"No! No, do not do that, I am telling you right now Billy Reinhart turn around this-" He paused for a second and let the pain jolt through him. "-car and take me to your place."

"Man it's your funeral, but you know my mom's gonna be all over you." Having gotten what he wanted, John fell back onto the leather upholstery and shut his eyes. He was brutally unaware of everything that went on throughout the next half hour, but he had blurry images of Billy's older sister wearing a tight nurse's uniform and bandaging his arm. However when he awoke no such thing was happening.

"John….what happened?" Was the first thing to be heard from Billy, who drew out the two words like they both had 35 letters.

"Lotta shit" John answered, rubbing his forehead with his left hand.

"Dude, I get all call from you saying to pick you up immediately and then I find you cold and passed out in the yard of your neighbor who used to throw rocks at us!" John couldn't really feel his arm anymore, they must have given him pain killers. He winced when he tried to move it though, and decided to just stay where he was: lying on the table in Billy's kitchen.

"I dunno" he shrugged sarcastically.

"'I dunno' like you're tryna be cute or 'I dunno' like you blanked out."

"I dunno" John feebly said again, stifling a grin.

"Man I will kick the living shit outta you!" John shrugged. He already felt like he already had had the living shit kicked out of him.

"I pissed off my old man, real bad, because my mom had just left, and then I went off on him a little."

"And he burns your fucking arm off? Jesus Christ Almighty."

"Yeah well, he didn't burn it off did he? It's still here idiot. And I'm gonna need to crash here for at least a couple weeks, if I go back anytime soon he'll kill me." Billy stared at John.

"Man I dunno what to tell you, we got my uncle coming in next week, and we don't have all that much space. I mean you can spend maybe a couple nights… but c'mon man."

"Don't 'c'mon man' me Billy, you know I don't wanna do this!" He just was realizing how dumb he probably looked lying on this table. He tried to sit up and made the unbearable mistake of trying to push off of his right arm. "AGH!" he screamed and Billy's mom came running back into the room.

"John, are you alright?!" she exclaimed. He nodded solemnly and lied back down on the table. She scurried back out of the room and John glared at Billy. Billy stared back at John, and suddenly his eyes drifted. John racked his brain for what he could be looking at as a look of utter confusion spread across Billy's face.

"You been shop liftin' again?" he asked curiously. John's face turned bright red. The earring...fuck he had forgotten to take it out. He had been taking it out when he was around his friends for the past week. Billy noticed the color of his friend's face and bit his lip. "John, my man, where in the hell did you get a fuckin' diamond earring?!"

"A girl" John shrugged nonchalantly.

"A girl? A girl?! No girl we know has got the money for a diamond earring, that's a pretty lame lie. C'mon, did you steal it off one of the popular girls?" Stop asking questions, John prayed silently.

"Well, you know, not exactly, see…"

"Jonathan Axel Bender -"

"Hey!" John yelled. "It is seriously in your best interest to _never_ call me Jonathan Axel again." Billy smirked. "I met some girl who you don't you, she had them in, and she gave me one."

"What did she shoplift them?"

"There was no shoplifting! God she's just…" He trailed off and squeezed his eyes shut. Why was Billy badgering him when he was a lying on table with his skin smoking?

"Rich" Billy said jokingly. John shrugged and half nodded, and Billy's mouth fell open. "You're shitting me?! You've got a rich girlfriend? So man when's she gonna buy you a Ferrari?"

"I don't want her to buy me anything, I didn't want the dumb earring in the first place, but I didn't want to hurt her goddamn feelings. I don't need more stuff."

"You need a car, otherwise I wouldn't have had to come pick you up an hour ago." Bender glared at him. "Is she hot?"

"I think she's hot" John said.

"What do you mean, what are you, blind? She either is or she isn't."

"She's not fully developed. She could probably be hot. She's not bad now, but not anything special."

"Point her out to me at school." John rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"Never."

* * *

Andrew really disliked Wednesdays, and the reason being was that there was extended practice on Wednesdays. A scheduled 2 hour practice, and then an optional 45 minutes for anyone interested. But it really wasn't optional. They said that to weed out the unmotivated ones, so if you didn't go you were glared at all week by the coach and other players. So every Wednesday Andy found himself waving from the gym at the lucky sons of bitches who got to go home and watch TV for 45 minutes more than he could.

However, on this particular Wednesday, he knew he was going to blow it off. What was the point of attending practice if you were suspended? He might not even go to the regular practice. Hell, he might not even go to class.

However that one might be trickier since at the moment he was stuck in second period Geometry, the only class he had with Claire. She was a year older than him, but she was terrible at math, and even in a class with all sophomores you could see how lost she was. She was the only one from detention who he had any classes with.

She sat two rows behind him, and one to the left. He wanted to talk to her, to ask her how things were going, to ask her about Bender, to apologize for being such a dimwit-ass. But he was stuck in class, staring at the chalkboard, and wishing he was anywhere but here. He briefly caught Claire looking at him when he turned around to look at her. It was weird, seeing her in school. Previously, their paths crossed every so often. He was good friends with the junior Cal Nichols, who was also a wrestler. Cal's girlfriend Lydia belonged to Claire's clique, so they saw each other occasionally.

Andy wished he had classes with Brian. Obviously he wouldn't. Brian was a senior, and on top of that he took AP courses. Andy was quite certain he would never find himself in an AP senior course.

His dreams were interrupted by the opening of a door. It creaked as it swung back and a small red-haired lady in her fifties scurried in, handing a written message to Mr. Sheeney. "Andrew Clarke? Your father is here for you. And Claire Standish you are now dismissed for your doctor's appointment."

"Oh no I don't…" Claire began but stopped upon noticing Andy's stern glare. "Thank you." She got up and bent down to get her books off the floor. A boy in the back whistled and her face turned red. Andrew turned in his direction and stared him down.

"Don't even think about it" he said quietly. Claire rolled her eyes at Andy and they walked out of the classroom quickly. Once in the hall, they began to theorize. "I say it's John" Claire shrugged. Andy nodded.

"Are you two together?" Andrew tried to say casually, but Claire glared at him like there was no tomorrow.

"We're...I don't even know. I mean, I like him and all. I think I love him. He climbed into my bedroom the other night."

"You two didn't…?" Claire's mouth dropped.

"No, Andy! No! Do you really think I would do it with _John?! _He's older...and crazy, I mean who knows what he would do!"

"What do you mean he's older?" Andy asked, cocking his head to the side. "John's seventeen, you're almost seventeen."

"John's nineteen...almost nineteen" Claire said. Andy laughed.

"Yeah he told me that at first, but he was just screwing around. I saw his license lying on his dresser, he was born in '67. His birthday's next week, he'll be seventeen."

"No...no that can't be true. Why would he tell everyone he's 19? It's not old enough to drink, so what's the point?"

"That's a great look on life there Claire."

"No, I mean for John. He wouldn't make himself two years older if it didn't help him out for drinking." Claire suddenly looked down and her nose twitched. "God, you don't think it's because of me, is it? Because he didn't want to be with me so he just made up some excuse that he was too old for me!"

"I doubt it" Andy said curiously. "But why else?"

They had finally arrived at the front office, where Bender was sheepishly leaning up against a window. "Class dismissed" he said, walking over and putting his arm around Claire. She shrugged him off and so he quickly stuffed his hand into his pocket. His face was slightly red.

Allison came bounding up a few minutes later. She wore a knee length black plaid kilt and white tank top. Claire smiled at her and Allison nodded back.

"Ally, my girl!" John said smugly, now walking over and putting his arm around Allison.

"We can stop with 'Ally' right now" Allison said sternly. "I hate that nickname."

"Alright Bender, why are we all here?" Andrew asked, tapping his foot anxiously.

"Relax, Sporto" John said, holding up his hands. "We're cutting… shhh, don't tell."

"I'm not" Claire said firmly. John turned around and flashed her a grin. She glared back at him. "Where's Brian anyway?"

"Ha that's funny...I shall not be responsible for distracting that young man from his studies" Bender said, nodding his head in a sarcastically meaningful way. Claire noticed the multitude of bandanas tied around his right forearm. God, John was so strange.

"Well then where are we going, dickhead?" Andy asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets. John flicked his hair out of his face. He took his arm off Allison's shoulder and crossed his arms.

"Have you ever ditched school, _Sporto_?" he asked, batting his eyelids innocently. Andy glared.

"Some of us aren't burnouts, Bender." John chuckled.

"Ah, I thought so. You don't have to _go _anywhere. You go wherever you want. You go home or you go smoke in the parking lot." He raised his eyebrows and looked at Claire. "Go get hot in the janitor's closet." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked away.

"Hey!" called an elderly teacher who was walking down the hallway and happened to see the four of them standing there. "Hey, why aren't you in class?!" Andy bit his lip and shot daggers at Bender with his eyes.

"Uh, ma'am, we're waiting for a ride. Our aunt, oh it's terrible, she's quite ill. Dying, in fact, and we need to go see her." She narrowed her eyes at them.

"You expect me to believe all four of you are siblings?" she scoffed.

"We-" Andy tried to continue but was cut off by John. That son of a bitch.

"Well, ma'am, you see she's her…" he gestured to Allison, "And my mother. But she's his aunt and her au pair. It's very confusing, you see, my father will be here in just a few minutes. He's quite late already, I'll be damned if I knew where he was." The teacher pursed her lips, and the bustled away. "That," John said, "Is why we need to go. _Now." _Andy shrugged, and walked over to Allison, putting his arm around her. She worked her hand into his back pocket and they followed after John.

Andy could hear Claire walking out after them, muttering something about John being a prick. Out of nowhere, Allison said, "We can go to my place. My parents are at work until six." They all glanced around at each other, waiting for someone to offer to drive.

"Don't look at me, I'm fifteen" Allison defended.

"I don't have a car," John shrugged.

"I'll drive" Andy sighed. "But Bender, I'm warning you, you better not make a mess of my car." John walked over to Claire and pulled her into his side by her waist. She stomped on his foot with a high-heel shoe, and as he jumped up and down in pain, he wheezed out, "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Bender, I swear to God, if you touch me one more time I'm gonna kick the living shit out of you!" He froze for a second, and then recovered. He started chuckling like he thought she was kidding.

* * *

Throughout the car ride to Allison's Bender kept trying to put his arm around Claire, to massage her lower thigh, and to kiss her neck. The most annoying part was that he was upset, so you could tell he wasn't doing it because he liked her. He was back to the same boy he was in detention, who did sexual things to get a rise out of you. By the time they pulled up in Allison's driveway he had sprawled out on the two back seats with his head resting in her lap, and no matter how many times she whacked him, he would not move.

He sat up when he felt the car jolt to a stop and raised his eyebrows at him. "You're puke-inducing" she said, grabbing her coat and opening her car door. John smoothed his hair back and looked at himself in the rearview mirror as he passed it. "Puke-inducing" he whispered to himself, grinning. "Puke-inducing."

Allison kicked over the mat and picked up a key. "Thanks" John said grinning. "Next time I get kicked out." She rolled her eyes. The front door swung open and John walked right in. "I never would have figured there would be this much…" he stared at the wall, "...pink." Allison shrugged.

"Alright, well, I'm gonna go in this side room and talk to Claire for few minutes." John pointed to a door next to the entrance.

"That's a closet" Allison said pompously. "You can go into the study, it's the second door right there… and please...clean up." She said wrinkling her nose. John burst out laughing. "I wish!" he smirked, grabbing Claire by the arm and leading her into the study.

After he shut the door, he shoved a few piles of documents aside and sat on the desk. "So, would you like to tell me why you're mad at me?"

"You're seventeen" she said promptly. "You're seventeen, you're fucking seventeen! I mean what the hell? You said you were nineteen, I thought you were nineteen, I thought that's why we couldn't go out, but no, you're seventeen!" John rubbed his tongue against the inside of his jaw.

"Well, technically, I'm sixteen" he snickered.

"I'm not laughing!" Claire cried. John's smile subsided.

"It's kinda a funny story actually…"

"Really? Because I can't see this being funny at all!" Bender laughed.

"Well, here's what happened. So last year, when I was a sophomore, and all the freshmen were coming in, they all knew who I was. And they were about to shit their pants, because I was in a lot of freshman classes, and it got worse for them when some little twerp...well you know come to think about it, it was probably my friend Billy, but anyway, some freshman or someone started the rumor that I was 18 and I was just held back a bunch of times. So, I got them to do my homework, because they were so scared of me, and then it kinda stuck. Sometimes I really think I'm nineteen." Claire burst out laughing and he stood up.

"I'm not an idiot! Tell me the truth, I'm serious John!" He shrugged and looked at his feet.

"God Claire, you know, fine! It's what I tell girls so they'll lay off me, and leave me alone because I'm too old! Okay? Are you happy now?"

"No…" Claire said, processing this. "No… because you told Andy you were 19! So no! It can't be that! Just stop lying to me, God!" John took a deep breath.

"It's insurance."

"Insurance?" Claire scrunched up her forehead, like she didn't believe him.

"Yeah" he shrugged. "Insurance. The school has to pass you once you turn 20, no matter what. So when I went into highschool, I filled out all the forms to make myself two years older. That way, no matter how much I fucked up, I would graduate on track, okay? But everything's going great right now, hell, I even have a B- in Geometry! But it's just in case, okay. I don't know for sure I'm gonna graduate. If you drop out, you can't get a job. It's so I can keep my life together a little bit, you happy now?!" He sat back down. Claire then proceeded with caution.

"No lies?'

"No lies. What, I mean do you think i wanna put up with Dick for two more years if I fail? Everything should be fine because in the State's eyes, I'm still only sixteen."

"Then why did you tell me and Andy that you're nineteen? John I swear if you're lying again I'm gonna -"

"Yeah well I'm not. I told Andy that for two reasons. A) we were discussing Allison, and I wanted him to be certain that I would kick his ass if he fucked up with her. And B) it's a habit."

"John, you told me you couldn't be with me because I'm too young.. If we're the same age then why would you…"

John sucked in. "Alright, you ready for the most cliche, yet honest answer?" She smiled dimmly. "Claire, you were practically throwing yourself at me, I mean, you weren't in your right mind. You were all dazed. And you said you loved me...man if you woulda started taking off your clothes I wouldn't have been able to stop myself. But I knew you weren't right, and I dunno, I thought it would stop you."

"You've got to be kidding me. You're lying again!" Claire hissed. But he looked sincere. "God, you're serious, aren't you?" His face was flushing.

"Look, if we woulda had sex, we never would have talked again. You would hate me. I had my stake too, it was just better for both of us that I put that out there. I'm sorry, okay!"

"Well, I wasn't going to try and have sex with you" she said, stepping closer to him.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well what about now?" he grinned.

"Let's not and still say we didn't" she smirked.

"You're such a tease."

"You're such an ass."

"Mmm" he agreed. He stood up off the table, wrapped his hands around her waist, and spun her around so that she now sat on the desk. He leaned over, putting both his hands on the side of the desk, and kissed her.


	6. Chapter Six

There was a pounding on the door and Allison's voice rung through. "Are you guys finished in there, honestly John, you're a teenager, I can't imagine you lasting long!" Claire covered her mouth with her hands in an attempt to keep her laugh at a respectable volume.

"Hey, fuck you!" John called. Claire's eyes were still electric with laughter and euphoria. He slapped her lightly on the shoulder. "Well you have no right to laugh, _Cherry. _You wouldn't know anyway." She was still giggling, even after that jab at her virginity, and he gave up. She combed her hair back with her fingers and hopped down from the desk where she had been sitting.

The two of them walked out carefully, keeping as much space between them as possible. Allison was leaning up against the wall with her sly, twisted grin sparkling across her face. "Cherry no more" she said, cocking her head to the side.

"Not even" Claire shot harshly. She walked through the hallway which led out into a yellow-walled kitchen area with shiny hardwood floors. Andy had made himself comfortable on the recliner, with the remote in hand, flipping through numerous college basketball games, with a beer in one hand.

"He looks about forty years old" Allison commented. "Just like my dad sitting in that chair, I tell ya." John pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking his place on the couch, sprawled out across the entire thing.

"You know," he said, between puffs. "Of all the skipping I've done, this is by far the weirdest. Going to someone's house, a house like this, oh gee! And just… Allison Reynolds written all over it." She settled her chin into her neck and stared at him, as she always did. "Cla-aire" John sang. "Come sit on my lap."

"I still don't think you grasp the concept of us not dating" she said prudently.

"You two aren't dating?" Andy questioned, still not turning his attention away from the basketball game.

"No we are not dating, my god" Claire huffed. John mouthed 'We are' and Andy and glared coughed. "We are definitely not." John rolled over on the couch.

"We should throw a party" he mused. "I'll invite my friends, and sporto will invite his sodomizing jocks, and whichever group has more breathing members by sunrise is superior." Andy snorted.

"Screw that, Bender."

* * *

As Brian trudged his way home from school, he heard jogging footsteps behind him. Not bothering to turn around, his follower soon was at his side. "Andy?"

"Yeah" he sighed, trying to think of what to say next. "Hey, I'm sorry I was such an asshole a few weeks ago. I'm trying."

"Oh" was all Brian could think to say, as he continued walking. He was a good eight or so inches taller than Andy, he had never noticed that. Andy was so short at stocky. Brian was unusually lanky.

"Have you talked to anyone else, from, I mean…?" Andy asked as he swung his hammer harder and harder against the ice.

"Not since a few weeks ago." Brian's face was stern and cold and Andy was now realizing how terrible it was to have been in Brian's shoes. To be ignored and shut down. So he decided to do something that went against all his instincts.

"Brian, I'm going to a party this tomorrow, Friday. I…." Andy broke off, not sure how to finish his thought, but hoping Brian would understand.

"That's great for you Andy, now would you please excuse me..._please."_

"Do you want to come?" Andy swung aimlessly.

"Why would I want to come with you, Andy?" Brian asked. He looked so hurt, so distraught. Not like he was going to cry, but just like he felt hopeless. Like he was trying to teach me something that I was too dense to ever understand. "You're just so full of yourself, like, you think you're throwing me a bone here don't you? Letting me tag along to your sport party? Well I don't want to go Andy! I have other friends, and I'm not gonna like anyone better than them simply because they're popular!."

"Brian." Andy paced a few steps ahead of him, and then stood in front of him to cut him off. "I want you to come." Brian took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"If I agree to go with you to this party, will you stop cutting me off and let me go home" he asked, grinning slightly.

"Yeah."

* * *

"God, you're not gonna wear - okay alright, that's fine then" Andy sputtered, when Brian arrived on his doorstep, with an argyle sweater fitted nicely around him. Brian raised his eyebrows, and Andy, who sported his letterman's jacket and a grey T-shirt, remained silent.

"And I suppose this is the time where you brief me on how to behave" Brian laughed.

"Just be Brian. Not Brian Johnson, the Johnson's kid."

"Deep."

"Well" Andy shrugged. Brian pulled his keys out of his pocket and opened the driver's side door. "I thought...I thought I was gonna drive" Andy said quizzically.

"Well seeing as this is my car, and I am older than you, I think that maybe, I should drive." Andy glowered but got into the passenger seat nonetheless. "What? Are you embarrassed to be pulling up with me _and _not driving?"

"Just drive."

The car ride was monotonous and uneventful. When they pulled up at Leo's house, there was already glass shattered throughout the lawn from one of the upstairs windows. Brian fought to keep his mouth closed and Andy smiled. He clapped Brian on the back. "Welcome to a party, Brian."

Inside was worse than imaginable, what with girls in their unbuttoned blouses exposing their bras, and boys wearing jockstraps on their heads. Thousands of red solo-cups strewn about the house and broken - well practically broken _everything. _Andy pushed through the crowd to a group of thick, muscular boys who Brian assumed to be the Varsity wrestling team.

"Andy!" called out a black-haired, stubbly one.

"Stubby?" Brian guessed aloud. They all turned to look at him and his smile was wiped away. "Because, you've got stubble...erm."

"Stubby's over there" the guy said coldly, gesturing to a stout, sunglass adorning kid who was being cheered as he built a castle of cups. Brian looked down at his feet.

"Say, Andy, who the hell is this kid?" Andy gave Brian a cold look: 'You couldn't have acted normal for one minute?'

"Friend of mine" he shrugged, simply. "Brian. Brian, this is the crew." Brian waved half-heartedly.

"You're in my shop class" one of the boys said. Brian nodded as he recognized him. "Yeah you're that kid who blew up his lamp in his locker." Brian's face flushed. "Man, good idea, I hated that project. Ceramic fucking elephant, paint flowers on it and what's the difference from art class?" Brian nodded shakily.

"You're Michael?" Brian asked, trying to recall the kid's name.

"Yeah, Michael. I think -"

"Wait a second" one of the more brooding ones in the corner said. "Weren't you that kid that came up to Andy in the hall the other day." Brian's face contorted and he looked to Andy.

"Uh yeah" Andy said, and noticing Brian's eye daggers, he faltered. "I mean, no….n-n-no, I don't know who that was." The boy raised an eyebrow, but said nothing else.

"You want a beer, Brian?" Brian straightened up. Andy waited for him to decline.

"Yeah, sure" Brian shrugged, and Andy cocked his head to look at him. But he was starting to notice a pattern with Brian. He was dying to break free. He just never had a chance. When John had gone back to blaze up, Brian has been the first to follow. He wanted to rebel, the fire was lit inside of him.

Michael handed Brian a plastic cup and Brian stared into it for a few seconds. He scrunched up his nose and took a sip. Andy could tell that he really didn't like it, but he continued to drink it anyway. "Slow down Brian" he said cautiously and Brian glared at him between sips. Brian looked at him awkwardly, like he didn't know what to do.

"Brian...let's go meet...girls" Andy said, grabbing Brian by the arm and causing him to dribble beer down his sweater. Brian's eyes widened.

"Andy!" he half-coughed, half-whispered. "If my parents see beer-stains on my sweater they'll hang me!"

"We'll go to a dry-cleaners, don't be so uptight!" Andy muttered back. He steered Brian into the living room. Over in the corner, two of the more popular girls were sitting, half naked, near a boy with feathered blonde hair and an opened button down shirt.

"That's Mia Triebechi" Brian said, his eyes wide. Andy nodded and clapped Brian on the back. "That's Mia Triebechi with her shirt off!" Brian repeated, still in shock. Andy laughed.

"Go get her. Watch and learn." Andy grabbed Brian's sweater and tried to take it off.

"Woah, all I've got on is an undershirt."

"Yeah exactly, just take the sweater off." Brian tugged it off and began to tie it around his stomach. "Uh uh" Andy scolded, and took it. Brian snatched it back.

He steered Brian over to where the Mia was dancing over with the blonde boy. "Hey Mia, Chet." He nodded to the boy as well.

"Andy" Mia smiled. "Why weren't you in the meet last Saturday?"

"I got suspended for a while, detention. Listen, Mia, this is my friend Brian. Brian, say hi to Mia." Andy brushed Brian's hair over quickly and Brian grinned weakly.

"Hi" he said, holding out his hand. She stared at it and he pulled away quickly. "Brian Johnson." She smiled a little bit.

"Mia Triebechi" she said, and to her surprise she held her hand out. He shook it nervously and she bit her lip. "Are you in my Calc class?" Brian chuckled self righteously.

"Yeah" he admitted. Mia suddenly seemed to be self conscious to be standing there in her bra. Brian handed her his sweater. She looked at it and after a few seconds took it. Brian saw Chet eyeing them, and Andy was doing his best to keep him entertained. Mia pulled the sweater on.

Brian felt a scratch in his throat and began to cough. Of course, of course he would start uncontrollably coughing in the presence of Mia Triebechi. "Are you okay?" she asked, putting a hand on his back. His eyebrows shot up his forehead and he felt his blood rush into uncharted areas, the most noticeable of which being his cheeks, and another spot.

"Yeah, I just" Brian closed his eyes. "Do you want to go out tomorrow night?" Her eyes narrowed.

"I don't know, I think I'm busy" she covered. "I'm sorry." He nodded.

"Excuse me" he said, pushing through the crowd of people and into an unoccupied corner in the back. After a minute or so he felt someone approach him. Oh god, it was his movie moment, where she realizes she was wrong to reject him and agrees to go out with him. He looked up. Andy, not Mia.

"Hey Brian" Andy said. "What's wrong? How'd things go with Mia." Brian shook his head.

"She has my sweater" he muttered. Andy laughed.

* * *

John was at school unusually early that Monday. His hair was combed out, but still flared on the ends as always. He wore a blue and black checkered flannel shirt, white undershirt, black gloves, and loose fitting jeans. He felt powerful, standing in the hallway of his locker and being the only one.

His reasoning for being there so early, was that he had never left. All weekend, he had slept in various places: the teacher's lounge on the second floor that no one ever visited, the girls locker room, the auditorium seats. Billy had kicked John out on Thursday, saying that there was just no way he could continue to stay with him. John understood. And why not live at school? He practically did anyway, what with having an extra day for Saturday detention.

He never left school on Friday, he simply snuck into the auditorium and hid in the rows of seats. On Saturday he made his way to the library before Vernon even arrived at school so he wouldn't be asked why he came in through the back door. He could have sworn Carl saw him trying to fall asleep that night, but he was never called on it so he must not have. And now on Monday morning John was the first at school.

He wondered which locker was Claire's. Each looked the same in this hall, and he knew that her locker had to be in this hall, or another one of the red locker halls. The seniors and juniors had the red lockers, and the freshmen and the sophomores had yellow ones. He had never seen Claire at her locker. He had seen her in the halls before, and she had been in one of his first semester classes. He had never paid much attention to her. He had never found her exceptionally attractive, he always thought she looked like a little girl.

As the school year went on, and as she was elected homecoming queen, he could never see what others saw in her. But she began to fill out, and she grew up. He had forgotten all about her until she showed up in detention. By then, she had completely changed. She had grown, maybe two or three inches even. She looked mature, and attractive.

He assumed she was dating Andy, they sat together after all, even when there were six tables laid out, enough for each person, and then one. So, disguised as his comedy routine, he asked. He perceived that they weren't and acted accordingly.

A few people began to trickle in. He pretended to be rifling through his locker. He still wanted to know where Claire's locker was, to stop by unexpectedly, to graffiti on, to slip pictures of small-pox victims into. He couldn't ask anyone, because it would travel around so easily. Unless…

He sauntered over to where a small geeky looking kid was taking books out of his locker. He slammed his hand on the locker, closing it, and the kid's eyes widened in fright. "How ya doin?" Bender asked, and the kid gulped. "Do you know where Claire Standish's locker is? Red-head, homecoming queen, kind of girl nerds like you toss off to."

"Uh-uh" he stuttered. "Yeah, it's down the hall, take a right I think, near my buddy's -"

"Yeah that's great" John cut him off. He whacked the kid on the back of the head and swaggered down the hall, feeling the eyes of everyone else in the hallway on him. He took a right, and there she was. Three down from the wall, fixing her hair in a locker mirror. He ducked down so he wouldn't be spotted in the mirror and crept up behind her. Barely anyone was here, so she couldn't possibly be mad if…

He put his arms around he waist and pulled his body into hers. "Guess who?" he said, containing his laughter as he attempted to imitate a stereotypical, football quarterback, romantic boyfriend that he hoped he would never be. She picked his fingers apart one by one and then pushed him off of her. "John!" she hissed. He chuckled.

"Please don't do this in front of everyone" she whispered. Many people were already looking and he rolled his eyes.

"Fine" he settled, walking away. He hid behind the wall, and collected his thoughts as he waited for her friends to arrive. After a few minutes passed, two brunette girls walked up to her, sour-faced, and began to vent about their terrible lives as rich, spoiled bitches. He bit his lip and began to walk up to them again. Claire almost burst into flames as she saw him approaching, but he didn't aknowledge her. He put his arm against the locker, brushing against the shorter brunette as he did.

"Quick survey, uh, I heard one of you was offering free handies, and now they said that it was the cherry one, but I also heard it was the tall brunette." The other girl's face contorted in rage, and she slapped him. It stung slightly, but he bounced back. "Oh, my condolences, must have been someone else." He winked at Claire as he walked away and saw the look of hatred in her eyes. He couldn't help snickering.

He didn't know if Claire would come confront him or not, but after waiting for several minutes, there was no sight of her. He circled back around to his friend Eddie's locker. "Bender, what's up?" Eddie greeted. John shrugged.

"I honestly do not feel like going to class today" Bender grinned. "You on board with that ship?" Eddie laughed.

"I've got a test."

"You don't give a fuck about tests" Bender retorted harshly.

"Yeah, but" Eddie shrugged. "It's my senior year, I'm getting down to the grind, or I might not graduate." John narrowed his eyes at him in disgust.

"Well then, I'll find _somebody else!" _ he complained, dramatically. "You were my first choice Edward! After this stunt, you're gettin bumped down the list!" Eddie faked crying and turned back to his locker, as Bender backed away, and then turned around to walk forward.

He was starting to realize that he didn't have very many friends. Or at least, very many friends that he liked. Billy had always been his best friend, since elementary school. Billy Reinhart and John Bender, the kids who would always jump empty crates on bicycles they stole from a nearby park and be cheered on by all the other kids in their neighborhood. But John didn't particularly want to talk to Billy, after being denied a place at the inn. He understood, but he still felt betrayed.

There was Eddie, who was a year older than him, but always seemed even older than that. He had befriended Eddie in his freshman year when he had first gotten really heavy into marijuana, and Eddie had also frequented his dealer. He had slowed down since then, and rarely smoked weed to be perfectly honest. Only about once a month, more if his dad was acting up.

There was the ring of what he considered "The Wallet Do's and The Wallet Done's." The wallet do's would be the girls he "considered", girls he hung out with occasionally, had not slept with yet, and haven't been ruled out as possibilities for friendship. And then there were the wallet done's, who he had either slept with, and was done with because they had not discernable personality, or girls like Janna who were too unbearable to even have sex with.

John Bender had not come across a girl that he wanted to keep around after her had sex with them.

He had Charlie, a guy he had met a few months ago, who was a real comedian. He hadn't seen Charlie around in a while, but he supposed he could pursue that. He also had...no he didn't. He really had no one else. There were friends that either Billy or Eddie brought to the circle when they got high, or drank, but he never even learned their names.

It was a weird feeling, to be so alone. Maybe he could pull Claire out of class. He wasn't mad at her, for not wanting to be seen with him. She was making progress. He understood that. He respected it, even. He wondered if Claire would ever become a wallet done. Probably. If they continued to be friends in this awkward way for even just another month, he knew she would crack, especially after everything he had said to her.

He realized that this wasn't entirely true. He knew he would probably sleep with Claire, but would he toss her away? That was the real question. If old habits proved true, then yes.


	7. Chapter Seven

Allison watched Andy from across the cafeteria. She, Claire, Andy, and Brian all had the same lunch period, which was odd, but not unrealistic.

He was drinking chocolate milk from one of those boxes with the attached straws that little kids drank, and had packed himself a sandwich, an apple, and a small bag of chips to go along with his cafeteria lunch.

When he laughed, his eyes got wide, which seemed unnatural. He also threw his head back a lot, and rubbed his face, the way men with lots of stubble do, although Andy was quite clean shaven. He sat with four other boys, all presumably Varsity wrestlers. There were about ten or eleven boys at the table total, but you can tell by the body language and the conversations that there were distinct groups.

Wouldn't it be great if she could go over there and say hello? No, it wouldn't. It would be awful for both of them. And yet she felt so compelled. And before she knew it she was on her feet. She pulled her cardigan a little closer and walked up. All the heads turned of the five boys as she approached and Andy's eyes seemed to soften. She couldn't tell fully decode the expression so she faltered a little. She began to turn around, praying he would call her back, and then...

"Allison!" He called, stiffly. "Hey, sit down, why don't ya." She felt the corners of his mouth pulling up but she readjusted her frown and turned around. He had scooted to make room for her next to him. She promptly sat down. Everyone at the table had stopped eating and was now staring at her.

"Uh, Allison, this is Ricky, Michael, Mark, and Charlie" Andy announced. A sandy-haired boy half-waved casually to her, while another snickered slightly and turned away. Andy's fade turned stony. He took another sip of his chocolate milk and looked up at everyone bashfully.

"So how'd you meet Andy?" asked an arrogant looking dark-haired boy. Andy glanced at her.

"Ah..." She began, trying to think of a suitable answer. She kept her mouth open as she contemplated and so her final descision rolled right off her tongue. "Detention."

The boy snorted. "I'm sorry, detention?" Allison nodded. He glanced at Andy and then back at her. "So what are you, some kind of criminal?" She set her jaw and leaned down.

"Yeah" she whispered, smirking up at him.

The sandy haired boy who had originally been friendly looked at Andy with wide eyes and mouthed "how about this girl!" Andy laughed. He then reached his arm out and put it around Allison's waist, just low enough so that no one could see it. She glared at him, but he refused to meet her eyeline.

"Where's that kid you took to that party, I liked that kid!" asked one of the quieter boys.

"Brian?" Andy asked, surveying the lunch room. "You know, I don't know, I was gonna ask him to sit over here, I don't know where he sits."

"Take a guess" smirked the dark haired one. He glanced over to a table full of strange, glasses wearing scrawny kids. But Allison didn't see Brian there. She looked around more and saw Brian a few tables older, sitting with three or four other boys, who wore normal t-shirts and sweaters, who were eating typical lunches, and who seemed to be enjoying themselves. None of them we're wearing glasses. A few had braces, maybe... It was hard to tell from her angle. She glanced back at Andy who looked confused.

"I'll be right back" Andy muttered, shiftily. He got up and headed in Brian's direction. Allison swiveled around and watched as he pointed to a spot next to one of Brian's friends. She turned and looked at Andy's friends. They were all awkwardly staring at her. She could sense the two sides of Andy's friendships. Two of the boys seemed much more easy going, much nicer than the others: the sandy-haired boy, and the one who had asked about Brian. On the other side there was the dark haired boy, and a brunette, freckled boy who had remained quiet, but was shooting daggers at her. So, she directed her attention to the former.

"What's your name?" she asked the sandy-haired boy.

"Charlie" he grinned. He gestured to the boy next to him, the other nice one. "That's Michael." He pointed to the dark haired one and the other. "Mark and Ricky." Allison nodded. "Ignore Ricky, he's being a dick. Ayyo Ricky, why don't you wake up over there, we got company!" Ricky turned slowly to Charlie."

"I can see that."

* * *

John waited for Claire outside of her Spanish class, first period that next morning. "You're going to cut class, and go make out with me in…" he looked around. "That closet" he finally decided, pointing to a storage closet at the end of the hallway. She glared at him and he grinned, grabbing her arm.

Claire watched as people pointed and whispered, and she even saw a few girls she knew making fake gagging motions. This was a moment of truth. She could pull away, but that would be a dick move. Still, it would spare the embarrassment. Or she could disappear into a closet with the school-wide known delinquent and lose all her friends just to do something that she didn't really care for doing. She stops, digging the soles of her shoes into the linoleum floor. John glanced back, and then stopped as well. "You got a problem?" he asked.

"I-" she began. "I gotta get to class John." They had a whole audience now and Claire was feeling self conscious as ever. He didn't loosen or tighten his grip, but he met her eyes. He looked incredibly hurt, and Claire could not figure out why. And so she began walking towards the storage closet, this time with her dragging him along behind her.

She opened the door and shoved him in, then clicked the lock. "You little asshole" she muttered. She then proceeded to use her small fragile figure to slam John up against the wall so hard that it ached.

"Well, you see, haha, usually I do that" he chuckled, digging his fingers into her hair. She leaned in to kiss him, but he held her back. "Let me lead this time" he raised his eyebrows as he spoke. "I know what I'm doing." He kissed her just on the corner of her lips and then making his way over to the center of her lips, and kissing her so quickly that it surprised her. He then proceeded to leave her lips and kiss her jawbone, and the her neck.

"Jesus Christ, are you giving me a hickey?!" she demanded as she felt a sharp pain on the side of her next.

"Mmfh" he said, and continued to bite her, then when he was satisfied with his work, he moved down to her collarbone and began to suck on her clavicle. She dug her nails into his back and so he began to make his way back up, adding a finishing touch or two to her hickey, and then meeting her mouth again. She was beginning to feel light headed and so she grabbed to chain that hung off the back of his pants for support.

"God, you've had a lot of sex" she noted. He pulled away and laughed.

"Oh, does it show?" he mocked. And finally he kissed all the way down her next and made his way a little further below her clavicle. She stiffened. "Alright, Cherry, let's go" he said, straightening out the collar of his shirt. She brought her hand up to her next to feel the bruised spot where he had been working.

"Ow" she cringed. He laughed. "Wanna make it even?" He undid the first two or three buttons of his blue and black flannel and exposed his own collarbone and most of his left pec. She leaned in, and settled on a spot on his neck where it would be visible even with his shirt collar. She lightly bit down. "That's not gonna work, princess, put effort into it" he laughed. She bit down harder, and then tried to perform the series of sucking and biting that John had done. He had one hand around her waist the entire time, and the other one was wrapped around the middle of her back. It was incredibly awkward to be shoved up against another human being, and literally feeling every detail of their body. She finally pulled away and found that she had succeeded, although it most likely wasn't as dark as the one he had given her.

He rebuttoned his shirt, but not the top button so that the bruise was visible. "Let everyone know that John Bender got lucky" he explained. "You should to the same" he grinned, fumbling with one of her shirt buttons. She slapped his hand away. Ever so slightly, she opened the door of the storage closet to reveal an empty hallway. She motioned him out and he slinked out behind her.

"So what do we do now?" she asked. "How long were we…?"

"Maybe a half an half." He shrugged and walked nonchalantly down the school hallway. Half an hour? It did not feel like half an hour.

"This really hurts John" she muttered, rubbing her neck. He grinned broadly.

"Yeah well, you know you like it" he teased. She rolled her eyes. He reached out like he was gonna put his arm around her, but then put it down.

"So" Claire said, as they walked in silence. He looked up. "Does this mean we're together?" He contemplated that for a minute.

"Define together."

"Attracted to each other, acting on those feelings, spending time together…." Claire drawled. John nodded, as if he agreed with everything so far. "No side girls" Claire added sharply. He looked down at his feet and she looked away. Silence.

"No" he said coldly. "No side girls." She looked up and her met her gaze.

"Okay" she nodded. He played with the hem of his sleeve as they went down the halls, not knowing where they were going.

"Wanna be zoo animals today?" Claire asked.

"No, I never ever want to be a zoo animal" John retorted and she laughed.

"No, I mean, sit with me at lunch today. We'll be the main attraction."

"I have A Lunch" John reminded her.

"Oh yes, and skipping your after lunch class just isn't an option" Claire mocked. "Blow it off, I'll prove to you that I mean what I say, we can get to know each other." John's eyes immediately dropped about a foot and Claire's face contorted. "No."

* * *

John leaned up against the banister at the entrance to the school cafeteria and waited for Claire to show. And finally, after several heart-wrenching minutes, she was there, and they were walking into the lunch room together. Several heads turned, but most people just kept to their food. Claire gestured to an empty table and John strode over to it. "You don't have a lunch?" she asked.

"I had a lunch" he said. "This is my second lunch period, remember?" She nodded. John noticed that even more people were staring now. He slung his arm over her shoulder and noticed her ice up a little bit, but eventually thaw out. "Lots of people are looking" he noted. She swiveled around and saw about half the cafeteria trained on the two of them.

"I told you I was popular" she said. "Homecoming queen, remember? And you've made yourself pretty known around here as well." He shrugged. "So let's be real. Tell me about _John Bender,_ the down-trodden upon boy who took up sarcasm as a full time job." He laughed.

"Alright. Well, I was born in Shermer, I've lived in the same house for… fifteen years, my birthday is in two days, no you are not invited to my party." She rolled her eyes. "God, what do you want to know."

"I don't know" Claire said, dipping one of her fries in ketchup. "I would ask you about your childhood, but I don't think I want to know." Bender unbuttoned the top six buttons of his shirt and spread it open.

"That's my childhood." Claire cringed. An assortment of scars, purple blotches and bruises, cigar burns, and some scratches. She swallowed and he buttoned his shirt up again. It was like they had forgotten they were in a school cafeteria. He felt so far away from Shermer. "My dad...I mean just think of it this way. We all get angry, and we all want to hurt the stupid sons of bitches who fuck us over, but something stops us. We don't want to get in trouble, we have compassion, whatever. Now, my father, has me by the ear. I live in his house, I eat his food, and he is the hierarchy. He has no consequences, for his actions, see? So when I smart off and it gives him a twist in his panties, nothings stopping him. He doesn't care about me. He doesn't feel sorry if he hurts me, he hurts plenty of people, he grew up just like I did. You factor in the booze and well…"

Claire rubbed her eye, accidentally smearing her make up. "Fuck" she whispered.

"I got it" John said, getting a napkin, and wiping off the stray eyeliner. John didn't know if people were still staring. This was fun. If their goal had been to attract the most attention from the entire school that one average conversation could, they had without a doubt succeeded. "And hey, I don't live there anymore...at least for the time being. I got in a huge fight with my dad and I left."

"Where are you staying?" she asked, taking a sip of her milk. He shrugged.

"Around. Why? I don't suppose you're gonna offer up an extra bedroom."

"No I don't suppose I am. I think my parents may burst into flames at that idea." John nodded. He noticed Brian staring at them, and he motioned for him to come over. He got up, tripping over his feet as he did, and then took a seat next to John.

"Brian, hi!" Claire exclaimed. Brian narrowed his eyes slightly. John could sense some tension between the two of them.

"Uh, hi" he said. "Hey Bender."

"Hey Brian" John grinned. "Claire and I made out. In a storage closet."

"JOHN!" she hissed.

"Thanks...I wanted to know that" Brian shot sarcastically. "Glad your love life is going perfectly."

"What happened to you?" Claire asked, raising her eyebrows.

"He got turned down" John answered. Brian's eyes darted over to John. "Andy told me." Brian nodded.

"Oh well, girls are shallow" Claire said, trying to think of something to say to make him feel better. He shrugged. "Who was it?"

"Mia Triebechi..uh" Brian stumbled over the name. Claire shook her head.

"Oh Brian…"

Brian suddenly looked at her funny, and then turned to Bender as well. "You guys both have…" he observed and Claire tugged her shirt collar up in embarrassment, but John reached over and pulled it back down. "My expert handiwork" he grinned, tugging his collar over. "And this is Claire's not-too-bad version." Brian raised his eyebrows and chuckled.

"You two are really getting at it then, I suppose" Brian said. "I was talking to Andy the other day, and he said things were going okay with Allison, but kind of awkward. She sat with him and his wrestler friends, and I think some of them were being assholes, I dunno."

"A very sporto thing to do" John said, nodding and stealing one of Claire's fries. Brian reached for one and John smacks his hand away. "What is hers is mine and what is mine, which is nothing, is hers" he teased. "And so I am entitled to her french fries." Claire rolled her eyes and handed one to Brian.

John put his arm around Claire again, playing with her hair on the other side. "I find it ironic that your hair is shorter than mine" he commented.

"Hey...Brian" John began. He looked up. "God, don't go thinking I care, but how are you doing?"

"Um...fine? Why do you ask?"

"I mean, with your grades, are you feeling alright." Brian shrunk three sizes.

"Yeah...look I'm not that kind of person. Everyone thinks it sometimes. I don't wanna be the 'suicide kid' to the point where people are scared to say the word 'gun' around me, alright? So just drop it."

"Sorry I asked" Bender huffed, rolling his eyes. "Do you want the rest of these?" he asked Claire. She shrugged and then shook her head. "Ha-ha!" he exclaimed, and he pulled the fries in front of him. He rolled up his sleeves so he wouldn't get ketchup on his shirt, and then quickly rolled them down.

"John" Claire snapped. And there were the eyes. A sea of them, all trained on him and Claire. "John what's on your arm?" Brian turned away. Bender got up and began walking away. Claire followed him, yanking up his sleeve. On the sight of his black skin she nearly vomited. She quickly rolled it back down.

"Not here" John muttered, grabbing her by the wrist. She shook him off but followed anyway. He lead her out into the Athletic Courtyard, otherwise known as Jock Strap Alley, which was a little grassy quad surrounded by parts of the school building, right outside the gym.

Claire was breathing so heavily, and quivering. She looked petrified. She swallowed hard and then asked him again. "John, what is on your arm?"

He looked at the ground. "It's old, don't worry about it."

"John, you look like you need medical attention right now! What was on your arm?!"

He said nothing.

"John tell me what that was right now or I'm calling social services!"

He took a step forward so he could hold her at bay if she tried to run for a phone. "Claire, stay out of this! It had nothing to do with you!"

She looked around helplessly. "For godsake's John, you're my boyfriend, I mean -"

"I'm not your boyfriend" he spat, remaining perfectly still. She shook that blow off.

"What's on your arm?" He grunted.

"It's just a burn, I was trying to make dinner and I leaned over the stove."

"Stoves don't turn skin black, John. Fire turns skin black."

"Yeah well, our stove is fired." They glared at each other for a minute or so, before Claire finally broke down crying. John didn't move. He didn't go and comfort her and put his arm around her. He watched her stand there and cry. He'd seen it before. Nothing new.

"You know what, John?" she said, as she tried to pull herself together. "I'm trying to help you here, okay? I can't be your friend or anything else if there's a whole side to you that I don't understand!"

"Wow, so that's all I am? Some scars and a few cigar burns." He knew he was just saying that to prolong the argument. He thrived off of shouting, yet hated it at the same time.

"John shut up!"

"Look, my dad's off the reservation. I can handle it. He was really, really drunk, I don't know. I think he just wanted to see what would happen. I left, okay? Maybe I'll go back in a week or two, maybe. But until then, I'm fine." Claire shook her head. He stepped forward and hugged her, tightly, wrapping his arm up over her head. When they pulled away, Claire sat down on the edge of the fountain, and John sat next to her.

"I just don't get it" she said. "This literally sounds like it's from a movie, it sounds so unreal. Why does he hate you, I don't understand! No matter how terrible he is, I highly doubt he just hates you because he hates you."

"Yeah well that's a fair point" John conceded. "I don't think he does hate me. He doesn't like me, but hate? No. He blames me...not me, he blames my existence for a lot of things. He thinks that if my mom hadn't gotten pregnant, he woulda had more time to get a nice house, make more money, and then they could start a family on their own terms. He blames me for mouthing off...some people just really don't like to be told no. He's one of those people. It really bothers him, it really hurts him. And I think most of all, he looks at me and he sees himself, and he doesn't like what he sees."


	8. Chapter Eight

Brian Johnson is eighteen years old. And as a result of that, Brian Johnson has his own car. So when he likes a girl, he has the discrete option of riding by her house in his car with tinted windows, and not on a bike.

He drove by Mia Triebechi's house about three or four times before finally parking along the street and getting out. _There will be repercussions for what you are about to do_, he told himself. He knocked on the door. He was taken aback when it was Mia herself who answered the door. Her eyes widened. "Uh...Ben...no I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, what's your name again?"

"Brian" he said, trying to force a smile. "I just came here because, you know, I gave you my sweater, and my parents are really weird about clothing, so I need it back." She nodded and then turned around. Draped over the railing to the stairwell was his argyle sweater. She hadn't even bothered to take it up to her room. She handed it to him and he took it, nodding, and then turned around. He walked a few steps, and then a wave of adrenaline came over him, and he suddenly turned around. Mia was still standing in the doorframe.

"I'm not a dork, you know!" he said, walking back up to her. "I'm not a dork. And I'm not a loser. And I...I just don't see why you don't wanna go out with me, because I'm not some weird nerd, okay?" He was raising his voice and she looked completely stunned. However, to be fair, his outburst had come out of no where. "I just...I really like you. And I think you're really pretty, and I think you're smart and I think that you're dating guys who are treating you bad because you feel like you have to, but I'm not gonna treat you bad!"

"Yeah I figured" she mumbled. "I'll see you around school, Brian." He bit his lip, because he really really didn't want to cry.

"Why don't you like me?" he called as she retreated back into the house.

"I'm just not attracted to you, okay?" she snapped. Oh, that hurt.

John Bender would have yelled "Fuck you!"

Andrew Clarke would have have walked up to her and kissed her.

Most of Brian's friends would have decided to leave then and there.

"Well I'm attracted to you!" he yelled back. "So let me take you to dinner!" She narrowed her eyes.

"You know what, fine. Friday?" She looked so worn down.

Brian's eyes widened. "Uh, yeah, Friday's fine." At least she didn't look angry. She shut the door and he turned around. He was beaming ear to ear now. Today was Tuesday. God, he was so ready for Friday.

* * *

John decided it was time to go home that Tuesday night. He was tired of sleeping in the girls locker room and finding used tampons stuck to the bottom of his shoes (it's not that he was a pervert, it's just that the smell of the boys locker room ruled it out as an option). He doubted his dad would even remember what had happened.

When he turned down his street, he could see his house, looking just how he had left it. Rain had long ago washed off his trail of blood. His house was small, but it was a house none-the-less. He had to admit that he did feel better when he was there. He made his way to the front door, swung it open, and called, "Mom, I'm home!"

"John's home!" his mother yelled to his father, who looked at John, and then rolled his eyes.

"You left your window open in your room" his father said. "A raccoon got in and destroyed some stuff." John couldn't tell if he was lying. He shrugged anyway. His dad narrowed his eyes. "Yeah well, if you do it again I'll whoop your ass" his dad threatened, crumbling a beer can and tossing it in the garbage.

"Where'd you go?" his mother asked him, not wanting to make eye contact.

"School" John answered, gruffly.

"Don't be a smart-ass" his father snapped. "Answer your mother."

"I told you! School, I've been sleeping at school! Jesus Christ…" As he walked by on his way to his room, his dad whacked him in the back of his head. "Shape up!" he called down the hall and John rolled his eyes. When he reached his room, he saw that it was likely it really was a raccoon and not a drunken fit of rage from his father. His bed sheets were clawed to bits, and a bag of chips that he had stashed under his bed was torn open with crushed chips surrounding it.

He sat down on his bed and wondered what his next move should be. Lunch today had started so well. All and all, today had been a pretty good day. He ran his fingers across his hickey and laughed. Oh lord, had her inexperience shown. But it was fine. He didn't know if any of Claire's close friends had seen them together, but it didn't matter. By the end of the week they would know. Anyone who carried enough would know. And now John had a question of his own to face.

Was _he _embarrassed?

No...if he was embarrassed that would make him just as bad. But the truth was, he was. He did not want a girlfriend. He did not want anyone to know he had a girlfriend. He didn't want the reputation as the guy who settles down, the guy that you can't shake after you screw. Part of him thought, if neither of them wanted people to know, why tell...but it really was more than that. It was a symbol that things were changing, and that not everyone was intimidated by social status. The Romeo and Juliet of Shermer High School.

* * *

Someone was throwing rocks at Claire's windows again. And she felt a smile form just knowing that is was John Bender.

But it wasn't. It was Andy. And to be fair, he wasn't throwing rocks at her window per-say, he was throwing rocks against the house, since her window was just a layer of clear packing tape every since Bender had broken it. When he saw her peering down at him he waved. She waved back cautiously.

"There's no way I'm gonna be able to climb up, so why don't you just let me in?" he called. She obliged, out of sheer curiosity, tip toeing down the steps. She slowly opened the front door and snuck around back. "Andy, what the hell?" she hissed.

"Hey, let's go inside" he suggested. She raised an eyebrow, but then rolled her eyes and they entered her house.

"Wipe your feet" Claire whispered. Andy did and they crept upstairs to her room. She flicked her light on and sat down on her bed, her eyes narrowed. "Why are you at my house?"

"Do you have any food?" he asked. She glared. "Forget I asked. "And I just wanted to talk to you. See how things are going. You do remember we used to be friends, right?" She rolled her eyes. She then proceeded to prance down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she got a barrell of peanut butter and some crackers. When she arrived back into her room, she tossed them at Andy.

He wasted no time in opening the peanut butter and sticking his finger in. "Remember when" he said, as he licked the peanut butter off. "We dated. I still love you, you know." He said so matter-of-factly. Claire rolled her eyes.

"I can't believe I almost forgot about that… that was in sixth grade, right?"

"I was in sixth grade, you were in seventh. Man, that was back when I was skinny enough to play soccer. And I was the big soccer hotshot… shit, it's always been something, huh?" He chewed on his locket. "How are things with you and Bender?" he asked.

"I guess are good as they can be...he's so protected, it's like, I do one thing wrong and then bam - he just completely closes up on me! I don't know...how is it with you and Allison?"

"Pretty good" Andy admitted. "She's kinda like, what I've always wanted in a girl, but didn't know I wanted." Claire nodded. She couldn't say she felt the same way about John, however, because she always had subconsciously known that she wanted a guy like him.

"Do you miss it?" Andy finally asked. She looked up.

"What?"

"Do you miss who you used to be? Not having to bother getting to know people, judging on looks and status exclusively." Claire glared. "No, I'm not trying to be condescending or anything Claire. I miss it. It's so weird...I miss being the hotshot wrestler. I mean, I was never huge, only in the beginning of the season, when I was one of three sophomores on the varsity team, and I was beating seniors in bouts and whatever. But then I made friends on the team and we kind of formed our own group, and when you're a small group of sophomores and juniors, nobody really cares. But there were girls for me and there were kids who would high five me in hall...is it really so wrong if I miss that?"

Claire shook her head. "I know what you mean. My friends haven't really found out about Bender and I yet...but when they do it's gonna be a total drag. I mean, I think a few of them saw us at lunch the other day, but no one's asked about it. Everyone probably thinks I'm screwing him."

"Are you?" Andy asked. Claire kicked him.

"You pig" she sneered. "And yeah, I do miss it. I'll never get to be prom queen" she sighed. Andy rolled his eyes. "What? It's a big dream of mine and I don't appreciate you _shitting_ all over it!" Andy cracked a smile. Claire, in turn, rolled her eyes. "Well anyway, I always thought I would be Prom Queen one year, and now that I'm a junior and I'm eligible, and either I'll be a social outcast or totally invisible by the time prom comes.

"Yeah" Andy nodded. "God, why did I think this would be easy? I mean, Allison, she doesn't understand. All anyone wants in high school is to be popular, I mean, can't she respect that after I worked hard to get there, I don't want to give it up." Claire nodded.

"But maybe Allison never wanted that" she admitted.

"I don't want to lose my life, Claire" Andy said frantically. "I'm not going to toss away my friends, and my sport, just for a girl...I'm not going to do that."

"Yeah but I don't think she wants you too" Claire said. "I think she's fine with who you are."

"And what about you with Bender?"

"Who knows?" she muttered.

* * *

"Allison, honey!" her mother called. Allison paused the cassette player in her room.

"Mom?" she yelled down. "Didn't catch that!"

Her mother's heels clicked on the hardwoods are she walked up the steps. "Allison, we have company" her mother said. "Put some decent clothes on and come down" she said, gesturing to Allison's Flash Dance style one-shouldered grey top and sweatpants. When he mother left, she threw on an old Joan Jett t-shirt and a pair of jeans. She walked downstairs and saw a family sitting in the living room. They had a son who looked awfully familiar, but before she could say anything, he acknowledged her.

"Allison, right?" he asked, pointing casually. "You're dating Andy, aren't you?"

"Are you on the wrestling team?" she asked, snappishly. The boy sat back a little.

"Yeah...Junior Varsity though. But I know Andy pretty well, he's in my Spanish class," he stopped to think. "And my World Cultures class." Allison nodded.

Her mother was still staring at her with a strange expression, almost as if to say, "Why would you not tell me that you have a boyfriend, Allison Cynthia Reynolds?" Allison looked away.

"We just moved in down the street" interjected the boy's mother. "It's great that you and Ronnie already know each other" she smiled. The boy nodded nervously and Allison's mother beamed.

"Allison" her mother said sharply. "You and Ronnie should go to that drive-in movie they're doing at the park on Friday! Tribute to the sixties, is that what it's called? Show Ronnie around town!"

"Mom he's lived here his whole life, he hardly needs me to show him around town. It's just the neighborhood he's new to" Allison protested. Her mother glared and Allison grimaced. "Fine, Ronnie, would you like to?"

"Uh, gee yeah, sounds good" he nodded. Allison sighed inaudibly.

"Well it was great meeting you all, but I've really got some homework to do, so I'll see you around school Ronnie" Allison said, before turning and rushing back up the stairs. When she got into her room she sat on her bed and opened up her textbook in an effort to at least appear as though she was doing homework.

She groaned. Now she had a date on Friday and it wasn't with Andy.

The next day at school, Claire found Bender leaned up against a few lockers, talking to some friends. She approached him tentatively, as if not sure how he would react around his friends. "It's Thursday" she told him. He nodded.

"It is Thursday" he confirmed.

"Happy birthday" she smiled. One of his friends cocked his head.

"It's your birthday Bender? Since when?"

"Since always!" John snapped, and then turned to Claire.

"You wanna go out Friday night?" she asked. "They're doing some type of drive in movie in the park, and if not they're a cool diner near there." He considered for a second.

"See you then" he agreed. She scurried off and his friends watched her as she left.

"You screwing the homecoming queen, Bender?" asked Eddie, cocking an eyebrow. Bender shot him a dirty look.

"No, I'm not screwing her" Bender laughed sarcastically. "Oh no, I'm screwing, uh, your mom" he smirked. Eddie rolled his eyes and the other guys started laughing.

"Huh-huh, real original Bender."

"But no shit man, you're fucking the homecoming queen!" Kenny exclaimed. "Goddamn! What's it like? Is she good? Is she big? I can never tell, she wears weird shirts."

"I told you and if I have to tell you one more fucking time that I'm not screwing her…" Bender growled.

"Damn!" Keith exclaimed. He and Kenny were twin brothers, as cliche as it sounded. Both obnoxious, sandy-haired, loud-mouthed assholes who's dad happened to be a police officer. By defualt that made them twice as smart since the rest of the group, because they couldn't fry their brains with marijuana since they had to submit regular drug tests. "I knew it, I always knew that girl was a slut! She tries to dress like she's not...she's real sneaky about it. Is she a freak?"

"We didn't have sex!" he insisted. _You'd probably tell them you were doing it with me so they'd forgive you for being seen with me. _"We met in detention and she's actually living proof that not all riches need to be annihilated."

"So are you dating?" Eddie asked. "Have you finally settled down, found a girl you really like? Nothing wrong with that, just make sure she don't break your heart, man." Bender nodded.

"We're just friends" he assured. He paused. "But hey, I wouldn't hate getting up on that." He smirked and raised his eyebrows suggestively and all the boys whistled and cheered.

**Author's Note: I'm sorry this is short, I just really felt that this was all that needed to be in this chapter, and there will be more in the next one, I promise.**


End file.
